Arkadia: The Rise of An Empire (Book 1)
by Kataranara
Summary: It's been 103 years since the first Arkadians landed. Now, their legacy lives on in the generations of proud families that comprise the Ark's hierarchy. The prosperous nation of Arkadia is governed by great families but two families have always been at odds. Will the two heirs, Bellamy and Clarke, upset the status quo? Improved and complete here on FF! Book 2 in progress!
1. Chapter 1: Unity Day

**Greetings to new and old readers. I am so happy to present to you the first three rewritten chapters of Arkadia: Rise Of An Empire. The chapters are quite a bit longer now and the plot a little more definitive so please enjoy. I want to thank you for giving my fic a chance and I also want to remind you that you will be able to purchase the FULL fic on Amazon this month (August)! I am currently waiting on Amazon to finalize. I encourage you to read them and if you'd like, feel free to compare and contrast them with these new, more fine-tuned, chapters. Kindle Worlds is where I will be publishing my edited fic and YES it will have the same name. I haven't decided if I should keep my pen-name though.**

 **I'd also ask you to join my forum: Active Members Only. I'd love to get to know you all and can't wait to chat and geek-out about some of our favorite fandoms.**

 **Again, thank you all so much for the views, reviews, and favorites as well as followers! You are all awesome and I hope you enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it.**

 **~Kat~**

* * *

The room was dimly lit, three wooden couches with plush mattresses and long pillows sat adorned in dull blue. There was a man with sandy blonde hair lounging on one of the couches, completely engulfed in thought. Another was standing near an opaque shimmering window, an icy expression on his face. Yet another man was sitting on the edge of a wooden couch, a weeping woman grasping his shoulder and biting her lip beside him.

"They're dead," the man by the window said, his dark hair hanging over his brow as he stared out the window at the growing crowd of torches. Shouting was beginning to rise from the streets outside, the clamoring of people rushing by was like distant thunder, threatening the storm ahead. "Betrayed by those dishonorable pigs…"

"What should we do?" the man sitting on the couch asked, his eyes distant. "Our people are calling for war."

"Civil war would end up killing us all," the man lounging on the opposite couch assured, setting his cup down on the table next to him. His bright green eyes glanced over at the crying woman and her grief-stricken husband.

"What more can they take from us, Ron?" the man by the window asked, turning to look at the lounging man. Anger was evident in his black eyes as he looked down at him, his jaw tight and squared. "They were behind the assassination of Carlin Green and his son. They have drawn first blood!"

"And it would be unwise to rush into outright war without proper strategy," Ron replied, sitting up from the comfortable mattress. "We cannot hope to match their resources or man-power, Baellion."

"Would you have us stay silent? The people would not stand for silence," Baellion retorted, his dark eyes narrowed.

"It is not up to the people," Ron insisted, his eyes wide.

"You're right, it's my choice," the third man whispered, breaking from his distant stare to look up at the other two. "They murdered my father and my brother and I will have vengeance."

"The debt will be paid," the woman beside him said, her tears still falling down her cheek. "They will feel the loss as keenly as we do."

"Lee, you cannot be serious," Ron begged, sitting straight up on the couch. "Moira, please, talk some sense into him."

"We'd have the larger force if we dared to conscript commoners," Baellion interjected, looking between the two men. "We can control the shipment of guns and raw materials and starve them of munitions and weapons."

"They have complete control of the army," Ron spat, moving to his feet as well. "You'd provoke open war between the military and the people of Arkadia?"

"The military _is_ the people of Arkadia," Moira replied, her almond shaped eyes narrowing even further as she wiped away the tears. "They would not dare turn on the people."

"The commoners are divided," Ron reasoned, looking between them. "The patronage of the Griffin, Jaha, and Pike have made many of them rich and, in a few cases, powerful. They won't just betray the families who put food in their children's mouths."

"Do we not do the same for many in this city?" Lee asked, standing up from the couch.

"We have to approach this path cautiously," Ron insisted, picking up his cup again and downing it. "This will lead to an open conflict with their faction."

"There is no alternative," Baellion asserted, glancing out the window. "Do you hear that? The people of Arkadia know what happened and some are more than willing to fight with us against this injustice."

"I will have vengeance, and justice, for my father and brother," Lee spat, moving to the opaque window and swinging it open. The noise of the dissenting crowd came over the room now and the jeers, cries, and calls for justice echoed in their ears. "Look at how they swarm, like locusts, hungry for carnage."

"They will be our vengeance," Moira assured, coming to stand beside her husband, her hand squeezing his forearm.

"Are we absolutely sure that this is the road we want to take?" Ron asked, looking between the two. "You're barely sixteen, Lee. What would you know of war?"

"I am the head of the Green family now," he spat back, his eyes narrowed on the sandy blonde man in front of him. "And I will have war."

"As would I," Baellion agreed, looking down at the small device in his hand. "And it looks like the city guard is being scrambled to control the mob. Now is the time to act."

"Then we must be sure on a stratagem," Lynn sighed, stepping away from the window. "Tell me, who is the commander of the city guard?"

"Antony Murphy," Baellion replied, looking at the device in his hand.

"His allegiance?"

"He's always stayed neutral," Ron said, looking between them. "He's the captain of the city guard. That is his job."

"If we can control the city guard, we'd have the advantage," Baellion offered, a smirk on his face. "We can offer the Murphy family lands, wealth, and friendship. Offer their heirs titles and noble status."

"And Antony is just going to flock to our side, along with his 800 troops?" Ron asked, the skepticism written on his face.

"The city guard are loyal to him," Lee reasoned, glancing over at Baellion.

"Entirely devoted," Moira nodded. "He was responsible for the defense of the city when Azgeda crossed into our territory. He endured the siege until our military could take action."

"Contact him now, Baellion," Lee insisted. "Contact him and tell him to bring his most loyal captains."

There was an ominous silence in the room at that moment, Baellion nodding slowly before typing on his handheld. It flashed blue for a moment, pulsing slowly until a new voice echoed about the small room.

"Master Blake?" came a man's gruff and confused voice.

"Antony, I need you and your most loyal captains to come to my chateau," Baellion insisted, the rest of the room remaining silent as they observed the conversation.

"The city guard has been summoned to quell the riots…"

"And now they are summoned to my home. Gather all your loyal men and come quickly. I would speak to you in confidence."

There was a moment of silence before the man's voice crackled through the speaker again. "Is it true what they are saying, Baellion?"

"Carlin and Ken Green are both dead," Baellion replied, his voice solemn. "Will you do nothing?" Another long and torturous silence followed, the room almost freezing in time as the blue light from the handheld illuminated Baellion's curly dark locks.

"I am on my way," Antony's voice crackled before the screen faded from blue to a dull white glow.

"And so, the war begins…" Ron sighed, bringing another cup to his lips.

* * *

38 years later…

On this day, the 200th Unity Day Celebration, the whole town was alight with parties. The wide stone lined streets were decorated with dyed cloth and ribbon, flags and beautiful flowers hanging from the streams above the people as they walked through the market. The noise was lively, a buzz about the town that put everyone in a good mood.

The town had once only housed 300 survivors from the Ark but over a hundred years later the streets were crawling with well over 10,000 Arkadians. The festivities started two days ago, and encompassed a wide array of entertainments. Theater, music, and games were what everyone enjoyed and vendors sold cooked meats and baked goods all from family farms or factories. During the games, many commoners bet on which noble family would win the title of champion that year. There were running, swimming, and sport competitions but there were also competitions for musicians, poets, writers, and performers. It was a grand spectacle but what topped off the festival, on the third day, was the war games.

The war games were somewhat brutal but men and women volunteered every year to try and become the champion. It featured gladiatorial style combat against great beasts and other men. The Arkadians rounded up wild animals like giant cats, mutated reptiles, and dangerous mammals to fight in the pits. All came to watch the spectacle as brave warriors took on beasts with their bare hands. Guns weren't permitted in the pits and man had to overcome beast with his own strength. They also had to overcome one another. Rarely were there ever real deaths in the arenas. Usually when an opponent was beaten he would simply lose, living to fight another day. But this year many criminals were conscripted for the fights against trained and deadly warriors.

It was here, in the stands of the great wooden pits, that Clarke sat, her head leaned on her palm. Being the only heir to the Griffin family, and finally sixteen, Clarke represented her family at the games. She presented her champions and gifts to the people of the city and sat, unamused, by the fighting and brutality of the games at hand.

"Clarke," came her mother's voice and she looked over to see Abby, a soft smile on her face. Behind that smile Clarke knew she was being serious. "Don't look so bored; people are watching."

Clarke only sighed, sitting up straight and attentively watching the fights, making sure to cheer and clap when she had to. Her father, Jacob, was speaking with the rest of the council members in the box that housed only the truly privileged citizens. He, and the other five clan heads, spoke amongst each other as battles and games ensued. Clarke wished she didn't have to be here. She didn't mind blood or violence; being a trainee in the medical program her mother headed was a dream of hers. She just hated the idea of performing these mandatory duties.

This year her father had told her that she would be representing the Griffin family this Unity Day, performing her first public functions. She was kind of excited at first because she always knew that one day her father would give her the responsibilities she was entitled to but at the same time she hated the monotony of it. It was almost intolerable to watch man after man, beast after beast, fighting in the pits.

She may have belonged to the most well respected family in Arkadia but she had her limits when it came to public duties. She didn't even expect to enjoy her role in the Arkadian hierarchy, even when she was a child learning the important history of their people and the world. It wasn't as if she didn't care, it was just so restrictive. She never cared for history and she cared less for outdated traditions, despite her father's insistence. Old habits die hard and the tradition of marriage before ascendance had always been a part of her family history. She hated that idea ever since her mother introduced her to it at the young age of nine.

Clarke knew to ascend to the head of the Griffin family, she must find herself a worthy husband. This was a tradition she hated but at the same time appreciated. She understood the security and power in allying with strong families. She understood how the noble families kept the commoners in order and the law in check but she couldn't understand the need for her to choose a suitor before her father would teach her. She thought it foolish to choose a man to love before she gained any real power because power, as her history teacher liked to remind the class, changes people.

"Clarke," her mother said again and this time Clarke turned in her chair to look at her.

"Mother?" she asked, her eyes searching the older woman's face. "What is it?"

"This is the last round before the noon break. We must meet your father," she nodded, looking up at the councilors box where he moved to stand. Clarke watched as her father spoke briefly to a darker skinned man with black and brown curls before turning to the match. The man in the arena was holding the head of one of the large cats, screaming at the crowd who cheered him on.

"Well done!" Jake's voice rang out over the yelling crowd. Some people shushed others and some fell silent immediately. "Well done! You've fought bravely Finn Collins!"

The boy in the arena nodded at Jake, pulled his helmet from his head, and smiled. Clarke immediately applauded for her best friend's boyfriend, looking over to see if she could spot Raven.

"Thank you, Councilor Griffin, !" he called waving as the crowd cheered the name Collins.

The crowd cheered a little louder before Jake waved for them to be silent. "Let us enjoy a brief intermission from the gladiatorial games! Remember to place your bets for the championship fight tonight, at sunset!"

The crowd erupted again and the boy in the pit only bowed, turning to leave the ring. Jake waved to the crowd again before turning the other council members, speaking quickly.

"Come, Clarke," Abby said, grabbing her daughters elbow and guiding her down the stairs behind them. They had been seated in the family boxes next to the pulvinus and had a quick exit from the small, but flooded, arena. Once they descended the stairs and stepped out from the shade of the bleachers and seats, Abby pulled her aside, straightening Clarke's hair with her nimble fingers.

"Mom," she sighed, standing still as her mother primped. "What are you doing?"

"Come," she said, pulling her along after a few moments of fixing her own hair and outfit. "Your father is expecting us to meet him and there is a good chance you'll meet Kayden Blake." Clarke could only nod as she followed her mother, people parting way for them to pass. Their family was noble and well-known so Clarke thought it not only normal but expected it; she also thought that the large guards in front of them helped. She soon spotted her father's tall blonde head sticking out of the crowd in front of them and she immediately quickened her pace, leaving her mother struggling to keep up. She reached him in a few strides and quickly wrapped her arms around his elbow.

Surprised by the gesture Jake looked down and smiled once he'd realized who it was. He placed a soft kiss on her forehead before turning back to the same man with tanned skin and curly black and brown hair. "Listen, Kayden, I understand the urgency but for right now I am going to retire to my home with my family. We'll talk over it later this afternoon during the gladiator matches, alright?"

The man, who's dark brown eyes were full of surprise, only nodded, smiling down at Clarke tightly.

"Clarke," he said, extending his hand. She took it slowly and he kissed the top before turning to Abby, who had finally caught up and wrapped her arms around Jake's other elbow. Kayden mirrored the gesture and then nodded at Jake, turning with his own retinue toward a large car. Clarke could see him stop briefly when a teenage boy with the same tanned skin and dark hair came out from the arena, his face covered in blood and his armor still fresh.

"Was that Kayden Blake?" Clarke asked, looking up at her father who was whispering softly to Abby.

"That was councilman Kayden Blake," her father smirked. "He's a very serious man, isn't he?" Jake stuck his tongue out and Clarke couldn't help but grin.

"Looks like his son did compete today," Abby pipped up, motioning to the boy who was talking quickly with Kayden.

"The young man has a talent and he's not stupid like the others," Jake smiled. "Gives me hope for the future, how about you?"

Abby just swatted his arm, rolling her eyes. There was bad blood between the Griffin's and the Blake's. Both of their families held control over the two political factions in Arkadia and have fought, since the descent from the Ark, to maintain their control. Clarke couldn't help but mull this over as she watched the boy smile and speak with his father.

It almost looked odd, seeing a Blake with a smile on his face and earnest emotions in his eyes. Being stuck in the same academy with Blake students during her early school years left her bitter toward the rivalry. She saw no problems with the siblings but never really spoke to them.

"Come now, beautiful ladies," Jake said, leading them both to a rover. The council families were the only ones that got special privilege with the limited number of vehicles produced over the past 100 years. Most of them were used in warfare but a few remained within the city for diplomatic use. As the driver took them up the narrow roads, people parting the way, Clarke couldn't help but let her mind wander.

The day was supposed to be a fun one, her first ever Unity Day Celebration as a woman of Arkadia but so far, it was bland and boring. She wondered if all the families felt this way, if the teens her age were sick and tired of the conformity and outdated traditions. She also wondered if perhaps her father had bigger plans for her other than marriage.

"Clarke," her father's voice broke her thoughts. "Hello, Clarke?"

"Sorry dad," she sighed, turning to him. "Just thinking…"

"Must have been some important thoughts," he joked, stroking his short golden beard. "What's on your mind?"

"Do I really have to choose a husband before I can work with you at the Embassy?" she asked, the blunt distaste dripping from her tongue.

"I see you're still opposed to it," he laughed, looking down at Abby.

"Is that how you two got together?" Clarke asked, looking between them. "Did you need a bride before you were apprenticed?"

"Yes, I did," he nodded, not breaking eye contact with Abby. "Luckily, I knew just the girl."

Clarke swore she saw a blush on her mom's cheek and turned away, almost embarrassed by their romance. After a few moments of laughter and a kiss, Jacob turned back to Clarke, his face puzzled. He knew when his daughter was conflicted and right now, she practically radiated uncertainty.

"Clarke," he said, squeezing her hand that was resting on her knee. "Does it bother you that much?"

"Yes, and no…" she shrugged, looking at the tall buildings they passed by, the simple people out enjoying the sunny festival activities and food. "I understand it is important. By allying ourselves with a respectable family and producing children it keeps Arkadia safe and secure in the hands of stable leaders. I understand the importance of the tradition when it comes to protecting our borders and maintaining an alliance with the coalition and with the other families. What I don't understand is why I have to choose the man I am going to marry before you allow me to work with you?"

Jake only grinned down at her as she spoke, nodding in understanding before leaning back in the seat, wrapping both his arms over Clarke and Abby's shoulders.

"Ah, my smart and independent girls," he sighed. He chuckled when Abby rolled her eyes and took Clarke's hand.

"Clarke, it is important that our family, our allies, and our enemies know that we remain strong," she pressed. "The only sure way to do that is to show them that our heir respects tradition and the production of more heirs. I went through it when I met your father and you must endure it now." She then glanced up at Jake, a defiant look in her eyes. "However, I don't support these kinds of arrangements at your age. I think we should wait another year to start looking for a proper match."

"That still doesn't explain why I can't just apprentice with father until I find a suitor…"

"No one is suggesting that you make a hasty decision," Jake interrupted, seeing the indignation in Abby's face. "I understand that the heart is a fickle and powerful thing. I understand your reluctance to choose someone based on their familial pedigree and breeding qualities. I get it… but you must understand that it isn't just about your happiness or mine. It isn't even about our family's position at this point. It is about strong leadership and good decisions."

"I understand duty, father," Clarke pressed, becoming annoyed. "But why should duty overrule my heart? Don't I have a duty to my heart?"

"Yes, you do," he replied, squeezing her hand again. "And in the future, when your heart is full of love for beautiful children and a loving husband, you will think back on this day and laugh at how stubborn you really are."

"Dad," she groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Children could be ten years down the line for all you know."

"You better hope not," her mother interjected. "It is much harder for an older woman to give birth, even with our more modern technology. You know this."

"I know," Clarke snapped back, leaning against the wall of the car. "I understand the need for Griffin heirs, I'm just not happy with being forced to choose right away. It doesn't seem fair."

"There is a reason we have this system, Clarke," her father said, his voice becoming stern. "In the early days, it was chaos and anarchy, civil war and attacks from grounders. Without the families coming together to rally the commoners, to give them purpose, Arkadia would not exist. The whims and wishes of the sons and daughters mean little in the grand plan of our civilization. And we're still in the early days of our nation compared to the thousands of years that came before us."

Clarke felt annoyed and defeated after her father had lectured her. She didn't need the history lesson and she didn't need a reminder of her duties. She needed her parents to understand that she was afraid and hesitant to choose a husband. This didn't really matter to her father at that point; he just wanted to win the argument.

"I was hoping you'd get to meet Bellamy Blake today, before the masquerade," her father admitted. "I think he has a lot of potential. He's been working at the embassy and court house for over a year now. Smart as a whip…"

"I can't believe you're both entertaining the idea of a Blake match," Clarke interrupted, looking between the two of them.

"It's a powerful and ideal match," her mother replied, glancing up at Jake for support.

"Your mother thinks it is possible but I'm not about to give my only daughter to a Blake, no matter how smart he is. Just because an animal has opposable thumbs, doesn't-."

"Jake!" her mother hissed, glancing up at him again. "I think we need to be open to all possibilities. And your distrust of the Blake family isn't doing us any good."

"Keeping them at a distance is the safest place for them," Jake nodded, kissing Abby's forehead. "Besides, do you know what that kind of match would look like to the people?"

Clarke was silent the rest of the way home, listening to her mother and father talk about the Blake family and their history. She was relieved to see the large iron and stone gates coming into view as they approached their family home. If there was one thing she loved about being a Griffin, it was their home. It sat atop the hill that the Ark had originally fallen on to, the structure's few pieces towering over their grounds. Clarke liked staring up at it every night and she loved imagining what it would have been like on the Ark when it was in orbit.

When the car stopped inside the gate at the archway that lead into the main part of the house, Clarke rushed out of her seat. She didn't bother turning back to acknowledge her mother's calls to be ready in an hour to depart for the arena nor did she turn to listen to her father's plans for the rest of their night. She just wanted a little bit of freedom right now. She strolled through the stone archway, into the atrium that surrounded a large open garden beyond the main entrance, and marveled at the spring flowers that were blooming. They were white, yellow, and purple and reminded her of her favorite painting at the gallery.

As she stood there admiring the flowers she felt serene, as if nothing could go wrong. The gardens and the villa always made her feel this way and when she finally left the garden to eat her lunch, in her private rooms, she was relieved to see that her parents weren't waiting for her. She didn't need them looking over her shoulder or bothering her with expectation. Right now, she needed a good meal and a relaxing drink. The rest of the day was going to be more of the same and she just couldn't wait for the masquerade that night. It had been months since she'd seen her best friends, Wells and Raven, and she looked forward to hosting them tonight.

* * *

"Bellamy!" came the familiar voice and he immediately turned around see his little sister, Octavia, barreling toward him. Her pale-yellow dress and wide green eyes were a breathtaking sight as her shoeless feet pattered toward him. Octavia, who was seven years younger than him, was the one person in the world he loved above everyone else. His father, who was a hard-ass, loved to spoil her and always had a smile on his face when the girl was around.

She was only ten years old and her eleventh birthday was only a couple of weeks away. She slammed into him now, greeting him in the foyer of their large home. He wrapped his arms around the petite girl with long and wavy brown hair, lifting her into his arms with a laugh.

"How are you today, O?" he asked, gazing into her eyes excited eyes when she pulled back.

"Octavia," their mother called, coming out from the ballroom of their chateau, a grin on her face. "Your dress will be ruined now with all that blood on it. Bellamy, you should have cleaned up first!"

"I'm sorry mother," Bellamy said, setting a jealous Octavia down as he reached a hand out to take Aurora's hand. He kissed her cheeks gently before turning back to Octavia, looking down at her mischievous grin. "But I won!"

Octavia had a large smile on her face and that delighted Bellamy to no end. She loved hearing about his victories in the arena and on the training field and he couldn't wait to tell her about this one.

"There's my beautiful girls," Kayden said coming into the room, discarding his long cloak. He held out his arms and Octavia came running to them, laughing when he picked her up and spun her around. "How has your day been my sweet girl?"

"Mom taught me how to sew a dress," she smiled. "And I also learned how to cook a pie!"

"Pie!" the older man laughed, looking at Aurora. "Why don't we have some pie with lunch then?"

"Can we?" Octavia asked, looking between her parents expectantly. Bellamy couldn't help but grin at her excited face as he slipped off his blood-stained leather armor. He set it on the floor and a maid came up to take the rest of his items for him.

"Why not? But first I must talk to Bellamy, alright? Wait for me in the gardens and we'll enjoy a picnic," Kayden said, setting Octavia on her feet before turning to Bellamy.

"Come now Octavia," Aurora said, smiling at her son. "Let's go get a picnic ready."

After the two women left, their voices disappearing into the depths of the large mansion, Kayden nodded to Bellamy to follow him. He did so in silence, walking through their entryway and onto the stairwell that lead to the second floor. Once there they skirted the large balcony overlooking the foyer and went into his father's private office. Stacks of books, paperwork, and a computer lined the desk and walls. Bellamy wasn't sure he'd ever seen the room so disorganized.

Truth be told, Bellamy always knew his father to be a stoic, collected, and thoughtful man but this office proved different. He was almost surprised by how nice his father was today. He knew his father was a loving man but sometimes he could be a real dictator and Bellamy had learned, from a young age, to placate his father in every way possible. He also learned that his father didn't put up with stupidity or rash decisions which Bellamy frequently avoided. He was a smart kid, finishing the top of most of his classes at the military academy. He also was proud of his charmingly dark and rugged good looks, a trait the Blake's had all shared.

"We've got a problem," Kayden said, shutting the wooden door behind him. His father crossed the room, opened a drawer, and removed two glasses. He then moved aside some paperwork and poured a clear liquid into each glass, motioning for Bellamy to take one. Bellamy immediately felt suspicious: his father always had a drink before he did something rash or dangerous.

"It seems that the Green girl has already agreed to marry one of McIntyre's boys," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose after downing the drink. "So, we're back to square one when it comes to a suitable bride."

"Well," Bellamy shrugged, smirking at his father before downing the bitter liquid, a rush of warmth filling him. "Maybe that is the universe telling you it just isn't time."

"No, it's the universe telling me that we needed a better match," he shot at him, sitting in the chair behind the desk. "You can't be a bachelor forever Bellamy. You'll be eighteen this year. It is time you chose a bride."

"We've already exhausted our options," Bellamy shrugged again, this time moving to the window to sit on the edge of it and look down into the street. "What family do you recommend? The McIntyre family's other daughter is the same age as Octavia and the Green's last remaining unwed woman is about to be thirty."

"It's not a pleasant situation," his father groaned, pouring some more liquid into the glass. "A quick match and suitable alliance could be our only viable move. Phoebe Green is not that old though; if you could get her pregnant as soon as possible, it might just be the perfect alliance."

"Dad," Bellamy groaned, looking back at him with a squared jaw. "I am not going to marry someone who already has kids that are only a few years younger than Octavia. I can't be step-dad Bellamy."

"Her husband was a brave man, and one of our kin," he shot back, becoming irritated. "They're your family already."

Bellamy hated being pushed into finding a bride. It was almost as irritating as his father's constant history lessons. They weren't really lessons to Bellamy; just another way for his father to make his point and get his way. That wasn't a surprise but he also felt irritated that the need for a bride was even relevant. He was barely eighteen and had been helping manage his father's business for well over a year. Bellamy didn't understand the point of choosing a bride so soon, especially when he was just learning to stand on his own two feet.

"What about another family? Isn't there someone else that would do?" Bellamy asked, trying to change the subject. He didn't want to marry his cousin's widow.

"The Murphy's have always been one of our closest allies," Kayden reasoned, thinking out loud. "It would make an excellent match if you were to wed their daughter. They're wealthy and own a lot of farm land as well as a dedicated personal militia."

"Jon's sister?" Bellamy laughed, thinking of his best friend's tough little sister. "She's only fourteen."

"We may have to wait a couple of years for the actual wedding," Kayden mulled, finishing his second drink. "But it could be manageable."

"She's like a sister to me," Bellamy sighed, setting his glass down. "Is this what we've come to? Parlaying marriage alliances from lesser families?"

"Watch your tone," his father warned, eyeing his son. In that moment, Kayden was faced with a mirror image of his younger self.

"All I'm saying is that we should be flaunting our position," Bellamy encouraged. "I'm the most eligible bachelor in Arkadia. Why not use this to our advantage to ensure a decent marriage proposal?"

"And why would we let the other families choose the bride for us?" Kayden asked, his eyebrows raised. "Haven't you been a bachelor long enough?"

"Think about it father," Bellamy smirked, coming to stand across from him. "When they see I have yet to choose a bride, it will make them nervous. We've made it quite clear that we would consider foreign marriage prospects and that puts everyone in Arkadia on edge. The wounds of the civil war run deep and the other families would be threatened by the support a foreign alliance would bring."

"The insinuation of a foreign bride would send Griffin over the edge," Kayden smirked, thinking of his long-time rival. "It would certainly put them in their place."

"And while they're arguing amongst themselves on how to interfere with our plans, we can take our time and choose the most advantageous match" Bellamy nodded, looking back out the window. "If we can confuse them and make them fear a foreign alliance, they would have to respond with a suitable match. Octavian Augustus married his own sister to his fiercest rival Marc Antony. Perhaps we can employ the same tactic when it comes to my situation."

"Octavia is too young to marry," his father scoffed, looking out the window. "And your mother would kill me in my sleep if I married her off so young."

"Not Octavia," Bellamy said, shaking his head at the fear that flashed in his father's eyes. It didn't happen often but he recognized it instantly; Bellamy wouldn't dare cross his mother over the future of her only baby girl. "While we're entertaining the possibility of a foreign bride, Griffin must think on his feet. He'll have to propose a worthy alternative and the only eligible woman that they have is his own daughter."

Kayden was frozen, mulling over Bellamy's idea with both distaste and admiration. The young man before him wasn't the same child he'd sent to the military academy four years ago. Bellamy could see the unshed tears that started to form and it made Bellamy smile even wider, turning completely from the window. Kayden then stood, crossing the room to Bellamy and wrapping an arm around him. It was a quiet moment between the two normally stoic men and Bellamy could have sworn his father had a genuine smile on his face that was only meant for him.

"You're a genius my boy," Kayden finally nodded, taking a step back. "By putting the word out that we're considering a foreign bride, it increases your eligibility. It also increases the pressure on Griffin and his faction to offer a counter-marriage to prevent someone like Azgeda or the Lake People from taking advantage. It will also allow us to rush Jacob's plans along so that way he must find a bridegroom for his own daughter without even knowing that we'd made the decision for him. He'd be doing exactly as we want…"

"Then I think we have our answer. This kind of plan could completely upend the balance that the council has; it could mean the complete disappearance of the Griffin name," Bellamy reasoned, looking back out the window. "There is a very slim chance that this will fall in our favor."

"If we cannot broker their alliance, we do have other options. Azgeda has been sending delegations and ambassadors to Arkadia more frequently. A marriage into their royal family would be beyond advantageous for our colleagues. There are three royal children and I am told two of them are princesses."

"We can consider this option more in depth later," Bellamy nodded, motioning for his father to follow him. "Now let's go enjoy that picnic before we have to deal with the council and the rest of the arena crowds today."

"The day is far from over my son," he chuckled, placing a hand on Bellamy's shoulder. "The masquerade is also tonight and for the first time, you'll get to meet the Griffin family and see their villa up close and personal."

"I had almost forgotten," Bellamy groaned, regretting the small amount of sleep he had gotten the night before. He was thoroughly distracted by a delightful redhead named Monroe.

Bellamy sat in the family box next to his mother, her eyes firmly on the pit below where the sand was being spread. The stands were starting to fill back up as the mid-day sun sunk into the western sky. It was well into midday, the hottest part of the day, and Bellamy was eager to get the fights started. The main event and highlight of the Unity Day celebration wasn't until sunset so he was eager to get the smaller fights over with. Though the executions had taken place during the midday break, there were still a few larger criminals the council had to deal with.

Bellamy yawned as the sun moved over head. It was when the crowd started getting restless that he looked about, noticing his mother was talking to Mrs. Green. Both women were looking over the pit with mild interest, talking together and waving at family friends. Bellamy then noticed that his friend Monty was making his way down the stairs toward him, dressed for the occasion as Bellamy was. They were both wearing the usual black slacks and dark leather vest over a simple white shirt. He spotted Bellamy and waved, moving to sit with him in the cushioned chairs of the bleachers.

"Hey, I missed you last night," Monty laughed, pushing his sunglasses down his nose to peer at Bellamy. "You disappeared pretty early from our little party and so did Monroe."

"What can I say?" Bellamy grinned. "I like to fuck before I fight."

"Well, you missed the opium Jasper and I had," he nodded, leaning back in the chair. "Harper, Murphy, Kat, and Jasper were all pretty lit."

"That sounds entertaining," Bellamy laughed, pulling out his own sunglasses and leaning back in the seat with Monty. He could see the box starting to fill as more and more noble relatives and families appeared. Bellamy, from behind his sunglasses, was watching a group of girls staring at him and Monty. Monty pretended not to notice but Bellamy didn't mind the attentions of the adorable brunettes in the stands. At one point, he couldn't help but push his glasses down and peer over at them curiously.

He could see their blushing and giddy whispers as he pushed the glasses back up and looked over the pit. They were finally starting the proceedings as the game master came out of the gates. He would wait to announce the opponents and speak to the crowd about the upcoming matches. Usually no one listened; they'd talked amongst themselves until the council members all showed and the executions began. Jasper, who'd came out of nowhere, plopped down next to them, a grimace twitching his dark goatee.

"Hello friends," he smirked, leaning back in the chair to mimic them. "Isn't it ridiculous how uniform we have to look in these traditional outfits? It's just wrong; the women get to choose their formal attire for the games, why can't we?

"Harper isn't happy about being forced into a dress," Monty smirked. "She looks great though…" All three boys looked back up the stands at Harper. She had a simple lilac dress on, her hair pulled back messily, and her face stern. Monty chuckled at this and turned back around, looking at the pit. "It's tradition; presenting our best for the crowds."

"Care for some moonshine?" Jasper asked,

"Always," Monty nodded, holding out his hand. Jasper handed him a large flask and Monty took a good gulp, offering some to Bellamy. After passing around the flask for a few moments, Jasper slapped his hand over Monty's chest, staring wondrously at something to their left.

"I think I like the formality of this tradition," Jasper commented and Monty turned his head to look at what Jasper was interested in. Bellamy's eyes followed suit, looking over to the adjoining box used for other noble families and their relation. Bellamy knew what they were staring at almost instantly. Everyone was staring, at least those who weren't already distracted by conversation. There, standing in the front row dressed in a long and aqua blue tunic and black leggings was a stunning blonde, her bright blue eyes reflecting the outfit. Her face was round and her chin cutely dimpled, accenting the small beauty mark on her upper lip. She sat slowly, her body language reflecting her discomfort with the arena about her.

"So, that's why we were waiting," Monty said, his voice bitter. "Griffin and his family just showed up."

"That's who it is?" Jasper smirked, whistling softly. "That's the heiress?"

"I remember her," Monty nodded. "Academy, nine years ago."

"No way, that's her? That annoyingly sassy know-it-all?" Jasper smirked, leaning back in his chair again as the crowd around them cheered and screamed for the last of the executions to begin.

"Citizens!" came a familiar voice from the councilor's box. Bellamy's father had the honor of passing judgement that afternoon. "I present to you four criminals who have been found guilty of terrible crimes. Murder, arson, and treason, by the law of the council, are all punishable offenses. The sentence is death et gladium!"

The crowd cheered and booed, throwing random objects at the four men on the arena floor. Then, one of the side gates to the arena opened and out walked two men, dressed in leather armor and equipped with curved swords. They waved to the crowd and approached the four men, still strung together via ropes. They cut the ropes at that point and the crowd went silent, waiting for the council to give their signal.

It was quick, almost predictable. Kayden remained standing, looking over the crowd one more time before waving hand, signaling that the two warriors in the arena could begin. The one man tried to run, turning from the rest toward the far side of the arena but he quickly lost a leg and then a head. The other three desperately tried to overwhelm the remaining gladiator but fell victim to his curved blade. The crowd erupted with cheers and groans as the blood caked the sand. It was then that Bellamy caught a glimpse of Clarke's face. It was full of pity, distaste, and disinterest.

Bellamy thought over the blonde, his eyes straying to her every so often to take in her reactions during the rest of the afternoon games. She eventually lost her façade, tightly held for a few rounds before she slacked into utter boredom, her eyes straying to the clouds. Bellamy couldn't help but grin at the way she bit her bottom lip or came back to her senses long enough to search around for anyone who may have been watching.

It was when she looked over to her right, and spotted Bellamy's turned shoulders and interested eyes that she froze, turning from him immediately and facing toward the games in front of her. Bellamy was stunned to see her maintain her façade throughout the rest of the afternoon. Only once, when the woman sitting next to her gained her attention, did the princess break her steely gaze.

"She's out of your league, my friend," Jasper said, gaining Bellamy's attention. "I've never once seen her on a date nor in the company of men like us. You're out of your element."

"She's a beauty," Monty shrugged, looking back down at the small screen he held in his hand. He was a wiz with computers and coding so he was constantly working on some sort of problem and various interest Bellamy couldn't possibly understand. If it weren't for his friends and Harper, Monty would never leave his desk. "If you're into air-headed blondes," Monty finished, wrinkling his nose.

"She's a pain the ass too," Jasper smirked. "She was always such a good student in school, the girl who took charge of the class before the teacher even had a moment to speak."

"I remember," Monty nodded. "Do you remember when we were seven and she convinced the teacher to change the lesson plan to include the civil war medics?"

"She sounds like she needs a good lay," Bellamy shrugged, looking over the obviously high strung girl he was so enamored with. "She doesn't seem interested in the games."

"She wouldn't be," Monty nodded. "I've seen her at the hospital working as an intern under her mother. Abby Griffin is the head surgeon as part of the trauma and emergency unit."

"So she's smart," Jasper grinned. "I like them nerdy…"

As Jasper and Monty went on, speaking to one another about random girls, the games, and the masquerade to come, Bellamy focused on the warriors in the ring. The final match was coming up next and the fighter in the current match was exceptionally good. The thin but quick man dodged the swing of the sword with grace, his feet almost floating around his opponent who was taller and just as limber.

The fight was quite engaging as the two men grunted and swung. The crowd was wild, cheering on the men with unquenchable thirst. The larger man blocked with his shield and the smaller pivoted, landing a blow to the other's side. Side-stepping the smaller man, the brute brought his sword down on his quicker opponent's shield, the splintering sound of wood echoing throughout the arena. There was a quick movement of a sword that clanged to the ground when the smaller man dropped it, opening himself up for a counter. He quickly plowed into the larger man's legs, lifting him slightly before the swing of the unsteady man's sword tore a gash across the smaller man's shoulder. It was a great plan to get the larger opponent off his feet but Bellamy doubted it was planned at all.

The smaller man quickly used his fists, one meeting the ribs and the other meeting the squared jaw of his opponent. This sent him into a stupor which allowed the smaller opponent to dislodge the weapon from his attacker. Now, fighting fist and fist, the two men dodged around one another, swinging with full force. The blood sprayed over the ground and their mouths were soon covered in it. It was only when the smaller man made his desperate move to sweep his opponents feet from under him, did he gain the upper hand. He straddled the larger man's chest and began to pound his fist into the disoriented man's skull.

After a few cheers and screams from the audience, the crowd silenced. The smaller man took his que to stop, backing off the bruised and bloodied heap on the ground. It was then that a familiar voice echoed over the arena.

"Again, Finn Collins, you've claimed victory against an opponent this day," Jake Griffin announced, smiling down at the young warrior who was covered in blood from his cut and the beating. "We appreciate your astounding victory against the Green's champion!"

There were some cheers and sniggers, boos and guffaws but Bellamy paid no mind. The rivalry was good for the morale of the citizens, keeping them in check with their baser need to panic and become violent. Mass hysteria wasn't something he wanted to see within Arkadia. Bellamy tore himself from the fight again becoming interested in Clarke's reaction. He'd noticed that she'd been paying much more attention to this fight than she had any other that day and he was curious if it was because of the brutality or brute.

The smaller warrior had full wavy hair, his smile bright as he stared up at the main box where the councilors sat. He waved to the crowds, their cheering loud as they threw flowers and random items of clothing. It was almost hilarious to watch the commoners in such a frenzy. Bellamy sighed, stretching his legs, glancing over at Jasper with a smirk.

"Got any more moonshine? I'm not nearly drunk enough for this final match…"

"It's going to be a good one," Jasper nodded, offering Bellamy the flask. After taking a couple more drinks, he handed it back and looked over the spectacle languidly, unable to hide the tired look on his face. He felt so lazy sitting around all day in the sun and listening to the white-noise that was the cheering crowd. What he didn't expect was to look over and have blue eyes meet his. She nearly jumped when he turned toward her and she immediately looked away, again, focusing on the final match before them.

Bellamy couldn't help the smirk that came over his face at that moment. He'd caught many women staring before but this was the first time he'd been painfully aware of their judgement. The blonde girl with big blue eyes hadn't been looking at him like some sort of sexual object but almost like a piece of art. She was analyzing his movements, his facial expressions, and his reactions when he wasn't paying attention. For this he felt a little embarrassed, realizing he'd done the same to her throughout the afternoon.

When the two men who were set to fight in the final match came into the pit, there was a massive wave of cheering and screaming. The two men were equally sized, their muscles bulking under the light leather armor as they met one another. It was only after the final announcement, which Bellamy's father had the honor to give, that the match could start.

Each opponent was skilled in their weapons of choice and both were wearing contrasting colors. The man in white held a long spear and a short sword, a confident strut to his moves. The other, wearing black, wielded two swords, his speed evident in in each move as his opponent's spear missed. The yelling, cheering, and clashing of metal was electric and Bellamy couldn't help but grin. He'd enjoyed the sport, the display of skill, studying the intricacies of hand-to-hand combat. It was almost like an art form; precision, skill, and discipline were all keys to fighting and these two warriors displayed their mastery proudly.

The man in black had just been thrown to the ground, the spear slicing his bicep with an echoing roar from the crowd. He had barely managed to spring from his back and spin about, sweeping the feet from underneath the man in white. It was a fight of strength and both men were equal to the other. The blows became harder and more precise as the moments pressed on. At one point, Bellamy heard loud gasps and as one of the dual blades came too close to his opponent's neck. He couldn't help but lick his dry lips at the sight of near death; it was almost the perfect counter and Bellamy appreciated every movement. It was a great fight, the spectacle almost too short to be truly satisfying. It was when the man in black had disarmed the spear-wielder and held him at swords length that the eruption from the crowd signaled the end. They had a Unity Day Victor.

Bellamy stood with the others, clapping and enjoying victorious shouts with Jasper and Monty. Even though Monty wasn't a big fan of the games, he'd put down his hand-held long enough to appreciate the skill. Bellamy had always been amazed with the crowd's reactions to these fights and games, loving the happiness that was written on their faces. Each face was unique, each cry and smile an intricate story unfolding for everyone to see. He glanced around now, looking at all the faces around him but was puzzled by the look on one face.

Clarke's was a mix between fascination and anger; she was standing, clapping along with her mother but her facial expressions and body language suggested displeasure. She wasn't frowning but her jaw was squared and her eyes were far off, dark like a brewing storm. She was rigid as well, never once losing her poise. It was only when her eyes suddenly bounced to his that he saw the depth of the anger. She was staring right through him, a golden glow about her as blue eyes dissected brown in the sinking sunlight of the evening.

She only stood like that for a moment, long enough to catch Bellamy's awestruck face before turning back to the pit, dutifully bringing up her high walls. Bellamy was confused and that lead him to feel a twinge of frustration that scratched at his ego. Why did she look at him like that? What could she have possibly been angry about? She seemed stoic, almost disinterested in the fight but now she was radiating with anger. How could such a serene and innocent face hold so much fury and look so damn intimidating?

Bellamy shook it from his mind, looking back to the arena to find that the crowd had begun throwing flowers, ribbons, and random articles of clothing at the victor, his hand respectfully poised over his heart. Bellamy looked up at the councilor's box to see his father smiling and cheering, the rest of the richly dressed members enjoying the thunder of the crowd. It wasn't long before his father finally stood up, motioning for silence. The roaring excitement quickly turned to whispered anticipation as he spoke.

"Citizens of Arkadia!" he called, a smile on his usually thin lips. "I give you our champion! Lincoln Xander!" The crowd erupted one more time and after allowing it to die down, Kayden continued. "We have had great contest during this, our 200th Unity Day celebration! It is because of our competitive nature and our inherent skill that we Arkadians have triumphed and grown over the past 200 years. So today, in honor of all the brave and noble citizens of Arkadia, I give you yet another gift. Drink and be merry for each tavern, bar, and food establishment will be giving away free Green Dragon Moonshine, complements of the Blake family!"

The deafening cheers and screams were all echoing throughout the arena as the crowd began to get restless. Bellamy was about to get up from his seat and head for the exit when the crowd started to die down again and he looked up to spot Jacob Griffin standing next to his father, waving to the crowd.

"A grand gesture from councilman Blake!" he called over the crowd, their silence almost just as deafening as their screams. Bellamy could have sworn that he heard a pin drop. "And as a grateful member of the council, citizen of Arkadia, and a loving and devoted father, I will also give a gift! A gift some go without and a gift the Griffin family is happy to give. To your families from ours, I give the gift of food! Every such establishment serving drink will also be giving out free bread, meat, and fruit for those among us who have worked up an appetite with the day's festivities!"

Bellamy couldn't help but smirk at the cheers that erupted in favor of this gift. His father's face was that of tight civility and brewing anger but Bellamy maintained his satisfied smirk. His father had taken a bold step, commissioning the Green family to produce the drink for the crowds at a considerable cost. It seemed to be falling apart as Jake announced his own initiative to fill their belly's instead of their spirits. Bellamy wanted to laugh out loud but Monty's eyes were full of fury as he looked at Bellamy.

"What?" Bellamy asked, unable to remove the grin.

"Why are you smiling like that? Do you know how much of that moonshine we busted our asses to produce?" Monty asked, his voice low. "And for what? So Griffin can gain all of the attention, all the praise?"

"The man is clever," Bellamy sighed. "I would have done the same if I were in his position. He could either stand there empty handed before the citizens of Arkadia or he could go a step further. It's a bold but profitable gamble."

"Your sick sense of humor never ceases to amaze me Bellamy," Jasper sighed, draping an arm over his friend's shoulder. "So, are we ready to head out? I've been told that we're expected at a masquerade tonight."

"Now we're required to bask in his sunlight and pretend to enjoy it," Monty growled, clutching his handheld and walking up the stairs of the bleachers to find Harper.

"He's such a fickle friend, our Monty," Jasper cooed, watching the frustrated teen walk up the stairs. "He takes on too much at a time."

"As do we all," Bellamy shrugged, looking over the crowd which was now emptying from the stands. "Monty's a dreamer though; a hopeless romantic, and a stubborn do-gooder so he takes on the entire world's problems."

"Dreamers," Jasper laughed. "You're all so hopeless and blind to reality most of the time."

"Oh really?" Bellamy smirked, motioning at Jasper. "And you? You're just as hopeless as he is only you hide it behind jokes. You're practically a jester, Jasper." He smirked at the rhyme, looking back across the bleachers to spot that Clarke and her family had already left.

Jasper smirked back at him, his eyes full of something resembling excitement. "True, I talk of dreams," he said, his voice mimicking that of an actor, dramatically waving his hand in the air. "Which are the children of an idle brain. Begot of nothing but vain fantasy, which is as thin of substance as the air."

"You're using Shakespeare against me?" Bellamy scoffed, rolling his eyes. "That was weak Jasper."

"I'm trying to get you to focus on the night ahead; we've been officially invited to the Griffin Villa. Shouldn't you be most interested in that?"

"I think I've developed an interest," Bellamy chuckled, looking up the stairs toward the exit.

"Then let's go!"

"I fear, too early," Bellamy sighed, making Jasper look at him. "For my mind misgives some consequence yet hanging in the stars shall bitterly begin this fearful date with this night's revels," Bellamy recited, staring up at the exit with an odd feeling of anticipation and worry.

Jasper just applauded lazily, rolling his eyes and taking another drink of his flask. "Come on Romeo. Let's ready ourselves for this grand masquerade and perhaps, if we bachelors are lucky, we may sample the sweet delights of the Griffin's offerings." He gave Bellamy a mischievous and knowing look before moving up the stairs toward the exit. It was going to be one of those nights you just wouldn't be able to escape.

* * *

 **Thank you again for reading. Please, feel free to review and favorite. I also encourage you to reach out. I enjoy making new friends and getting the chance to talk with fans.**


	2. Chapter 2: Masquerade

**Chapter two, rewritten, for your viewing pleasure. Love you guys and I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

"Clarke?" came her mother's voice, urgent and biting. "Did you hear me? What is wrong with you today? Ever since the games you've been acting strange."

"Is there a point to the games?" Clarke asked, turning to look in the full-length mirror before her. She waved her fingers and the image in the mirror changed to that of her wearing a blue dress instead of the initial pink gown she'd tried.

"Blue is always nice on you," her mother said, avoiding the question. She motioned for their maid to finish her work on the loose curls now flowing down the middle of Clarke's back instead. Her hair was up atop her head, bound in gold rings and chains but flowed down over her neck and back to touch her spine. It made her look a little taller and her mother quickly moved to the dressing table, grabbing a perfume. "And this is a beautiful scent; cherry blossoms," she continued, spritzing it on Clarke as she stood there in nothing but her bra and panties as she flipped through a few more dresses on the digital mirror, landing on one of the softest white and yellow.

"Ah," her mother sighed over her shoulder, looking at the image. "Beautiful choice."

Clarke gave in, picking the typical white dress. It wasn't too revealing, which she was thankful for but she hated the idea of being ogled like some kind of prize. She stood there for another few minutes, allowing the maid to pick out the dress and help her slide into it. It hugged her form around her bust and hips and flared just above her thighs into smooth and silky white pleats. It was a beautiful dress that ended at her knees but she wondered if it was good enough. Her breasts were mostly covered, only a single peak of cleavage underneath the flowing neckline.

"And these," her mother said, bringing her a pair of heals that added another two inches to her height. Clarke was painfully aware of how short she was and how much heavier she had become as she aged. She used to think her baby fat was cute but this was getting a bit ridiculous. She slipped on the golden gladiator sandal-style heals and looked at her true reflection.

"We need makeup," her mother insisted, and Clarke groaned.

"Mom, I'm fine," she said. "I'm already far too overdressed for this whole thing and besides, it's a masquerade. No one is going to see my face anyway."

"You're so stubborn," she sighed, a smile coming over her softening face. "And so beautiful."

"Don't get emotional mom," Clarke smiled back, kissing her mother's cheek. "You'll smear your own makeup."

Both women composed themselves now, pushing away unshed tears and observing themselves in the mirror one more time. They both were pleased with their overall appearance and couldn't help but smile at one another's reflections.

"While we have a moment, I think we need to talk," her mother sighed, resting her cheek on Clarke's bare shoulder. "How do you really feel about marriage?"

Clarke felt her cheeks burn a moment and then she took her mother's hand, softly squeezing her fingers between her own. "I know it's important and necessary. I just wish you and father would let me choose in my own time."

"But do you really think you can do this? Find someone to, at the very least, tolerate? Perhaps grow to love?" Her mother looked hopeful, watching Clarke closely.

"I can't speak for love," Clarke groaned, looking at her mother's reflection and then her own. "But I promise that I will consider all suitors you recommend."

"How did you become so smart?" her mother smiled, tears springing to her eyes again. "How did I create something so pure and good?"

"You had help," Clarke joked, nudging her mother with a smile.

"I didn't want to push an engagement on you so soon," Abby admitted, looking at Clarke's reflection. "I told your father it would be better to teach you before throwing you into this kind of mess. However, he insisted that you were old enough, and mature enough, to understand what was at stake."

"I've understood the importance of this situation for most of my life," Clarke nodded, watching Abby closely. "It needs to be done."

"I'm a bad mother," she nodded, a slight grin on her lips. "I shouldn't have to push my only child into such a position at such a young age."

"There is nothing you can do about this," Clarke reasoned, squeezing her mother's hand. "Besides, I know how to play this smart. If we're lucky, the right match will suit both of our needs."

"And what about love?"

"All the best books say that it finds you," Clarke shrugged. "Maybe I'll meet someone tonight that is tolerable, or at the very least, agreeable."

There was a knock on her door at that moment and both women turned from the mirror, the maid opening the door for the intruder. Clarke almost sprinted at the girl coming through the doorway. She had long brown curls and thick black paint around her eyes. Their green depths were twinkling with excitement as the girls hugged, Abby offering the taller girl in front of her a hug as well.

"You two look amazing," the girl commented.

"I'm so glad you could make it!" Clarke smiled, looking over Lexa's outfit. It wasn't formal at all. She was wearing a pair of black pants, big boots, and a riding jacket.

"I can't stay very long," Lexa sighed, looking over at Abby. "I've apologized to Jake and I wanted to apologize to you and Clarke as well. My father has summoned me and our delegation back to Polis. I must reach the city before morning so I leave tonight."

"Is something wrong?" Abby asked, looking her over. "Is your father alright?"

"He's fine," Lexa smiled, looking between the two. "The priests and scouts have brought back a new group of night-blood initiates. It's my job to oversee their training."

"Will you be able to come back to Arkadia?" Clarke asked, hoping that this wasn't the last time she'd see her friend.

"I'll be back but I can't guarantee when," Lexa responded, pulling both Abby and Clarke into a hug. "I wanted to say goodbye and offer my apologies."

"I wish you weren't going," Clarke sighed, hugging her tightly. "I could really use your advice on this suitor business."

"My advice?" Lexa asked, pulling back and looking down at Clarke. "What advice do you think I have?"

"Just some friendly advice," Clarke chuckled.

"I wish you could stay as well," Abby admitted, grinning at the two girls. "You two have been close for a few years now and I hate to see Clarke facing this decision alone. No matter how much I try, as her mother, I cannot help her with her choice. But, I know I can trust you to look out for her interests which would put me at ease."

"I'm confident Clarke will make the right choice," Lexa nodded, stepping away from the two women. "And I'm almost positive she can manage on her own. She's never been indecisive before so this should just be another fork in the road for you."

"You say that like I actually know what I'm doing," Clarke confessed, crossing her arms.

"You know what you're doing," Lexa smirked. "You just don't know it yet."

"I'll miss your friendship so much!" Clarke sighed, eyeing herself in the mirror again. "Did you say goodbye to Raven and Lily?"

"Earlier today," Lexa nodded, leaning against the table next to the mirror. "Lily wanted to go with me but I think she understood why I had to leave."

"She really looks up to you," Abby commented, sitting down on one of the plush chairs.

"She's like the sister I never had," Lexa agreed, folding her arms over her torso. "But, if you'll take my advice on something…" Clarke looked over at her and Lexa grinned, pushing a lock of hair over her ear. "Try not to force it. Like I tell all the initiates; some of us have raw talent and others don't. Take your time and consider your own abilities before rushing into a fight you can't win."

"This is hardly a battle," Clarke chuckled, nodding in agreement. "But I understand the sentiment. Finding someone to spend the rest of my life with, to father my children, is going to be the biggest challenge of my life. I don't want to rush it…"

"You'll be fine," Lexa nodded. "Just don't let yourself get carried away."

"I may have to if mom keeps pushing friendship with the Blake's," Clarke joked, making Lexa look at Abby in disbelief.

"I'm not pushing for much," Abby protested, her brow furrowing. "I'm proposing that you make friends with Bellamy Blake, not children."

"Sounds like a whole lot of political and social intrigue," Lexa chuckled. "Maybe it is a good thing I am leaving."

"You're not exactly subtle," Clarke smirked. "But maybe mom's right. Forming a good working relationship with Bellamy would benefit our family."

"There is just something that I don't trust about him or his family," Lexa admitted. "Be on your guard with them."

"I have no choice," Clarke assured, winking at Abby. All three of them chuckled before Lexa gave them one more hug, signaling that she had to leave.

"I'll see you both soon," Lexa assured. "Then you can tell me all about your relationship problems."

"Safe trip," Abby smiled, checking her reflection one last time.

"May we meet again," Clarke nodded, wrapping her fingers around Lexa's forearm in the sign of friendship.

Lexa just smiled and mirrored her, waving goodbye one more time before leaving the room, her boots thumping through the hall outside. After a moment, Abby turned to Clarke, a curious twinkle in her eye.

"She's devoted to you," Abby commented.

"We're friends," Clarke replied, straightening out her dress. "I trust her with my life."

"At a time like this, it is important to have reliable allies," Abby commented, wrapping her arm through Clarke's. "Be on your toes. All the families will be in our home tonight, celebrating."

"And I'll have to charm them all?" Clarke asked, a knowing look in her eye.

"Only a few," her mother sighed. "Even if it's only an act."

"Come on, let's just enjoy the masquerade tonight. Tomorrow, we'll speak politics," Clarke insisted, leading her mother toward the door.

Abby couldn't help but grin at her daughter, the stubborn strong willed but clever girl that reminded her so much of her beloved Jake. She kissed Clarke gently on the forehead before grabbing the ornate black and silver mask on the stand. Clarke grabbed hers, a simple white and gold mask, and allowed her mother to lead her out of her room and down the long hallway of their villa. The gallery was wide and open, overlooking the atrium below as well as the gardens outside. Over the balcony in the middle of the atrium was a beautiful flower garden, interlaced with trickling water and beautiful blooming shrubs. Music was drifting up to them from the garden as voices hummed from below. The party had already begun and as they walked in silence, Clarke looked through the opaque windows overlooking the gardens outside the villa. She could see the sun had almost fully disappeared, the orange light in the distance fading to red and navy blue. They could also hear that their party guests were already within, drinking and celebrating the occasion with laughter and chatter. They descended the wide stairway into the annex and listened as voices drifted to them through the thick curtains.

"Now, don't forget," her mother smiled, squeezing her arm. "The McIntyre family will be here with their daughter and heiress Harper. The Murphy's with their children Kat and Jon. The Green's will be present with their heir as well as his close friend Jasper Jordon." Her mother turned to face her full on now, her face quizzical. "Didn't you attend academy with them?"

"Many years ago mother," Clarke sighed, remembering the two trouble-makers well. "I know who is here, no need to remind me. I can put on a kind face and learn more about them tonight without seeming out of the ordinary. Who knows, maybe tonight will be the start to the first inter-family cooperation in almost forty years."

"Maybe," Abby drawled, eyeing Clarke curiously. "We also have guests of our own dear. Raven, Lily and their family will be here and so will the Collins boy, Kane's family, and Lexa's cousin is staying with Thelonious and his family." Her face then grew sour and she sighed, squeezing Clarke's hand again. "And of course, the Blake's will be here as well. I want you to be very attentive to them and try your best to get along with Bellamy and his sister. Though, the girl isn't really old enough to attend…"

"It's been a long time since I've seen Raven," Clarke admitted, trying to stay off the subject of the Blake family. She'd seen enough of the heir's bloodlust and greedy enjoyment of the games to know that she didn't care for him. His demeanor earlier that day during the final fight was repulsive to Clarke. Someone who could enjoy such senseless gore and brutality was as far from her thoughts as possible.

"Perhaps we may all get together to dine later this week, when the festival is over," Abby pressed, tying her mask onto her face. Clarke did the same and soon they were walking through the parted curtains into the brightly lit atrium. It was almost full; all around the open-air garden guests enjoyed the hospitality and entertainment her father had provided. Dressed in fine clothing, scented with perfume, and enjoying cups of moonshine, wine, and exotic fruit concoctions they were marveled by the Griffin home.

Clarke immediately noticed that her father had gone overboard again. There was a fine replication of the old Ark, rotating in thin air but out of it poured streams of clear blue liquid. Their family's signature drink of choice was hovering using magnets to distribute alcohol into eagerly waiting cups. This spectacle was matched only by the wildly dressed musicians and singers, dancing and playing within the garden so that their sounds echoed throughout the home.

Clarke noticed the guests were enamored with the beautiful open atrium and the garden held within the middle, full of small shrubs and flower bushes. The white, yellow, and purple of the flowers was still vivid in the dim lighting. There were also dozens of caterers, carrying cups of wine, plates of small foods, and delicious candies. Clarke gave a knowing look to her mother then, earning a coy grin.

"We must make sure our guests are well entertained and fed," she pressed, moving through the people scattered within the space. Clarke could already feel herself becoming irritated. She just wanted to find Raven, Finn, Wells, and Lily. It'd been almost two months since they'd graduated prep school and now, all of them were headed into their separate fields for job assignments.

Clarke allowed herself to be whisked along with her mother toward the sound of her father's laughing voice. He was recalling some story or some occasion to a friend when both Clarke and Abby came upon him, his bright eyes shining through his simple black mask.

"My girls!" he cried out, making everyone in the vicinity look over. "I was beginning to think you'd never join me."

"Husband," Abby smiled, taking his hand now. Clarke took his other elbow and the three of them stood there, the perfect picture of a noble family, speaking with their friends and avoiding the inevitable arrival of the Blake's and their faction.

Clarke was speaking with her father, mother, Thelonious Jaha, and his wife Sarah when Wells appeared, a smile on his lips. His mask was a simple black one, with gold trim and Clarke kissed his cheek as he approached. "Wells," she smiled, taking his arm now. "How have you been? How goes internship at the embassy?"

"Busy," he admitted, nodding to his father before leaning over to kiss his mother's cheek. "I've hardly had time to read and there's an interesting set of renaissance documents I've been eager to check out."

"I didn't know you were interested in history," Thelonious laughed, looking over at his son. "And what documents were so intriguing?"

"It's called _The Prince_ and it is a book about how one should govern," Wells insisted, looking over at Jake who grinned widely.

"I've read it," Jake nodded, looking between Sarah and Thelonious. "It's a very intriguing and thought provoking book."

"If he'd applied this kind of dedication to other tasks, like ambition, I might be more impressed," Thelonious joked, patting Wells on the shoulder. "You two should go, enjoy the company of your friends. Our conversations wouldn't interest you in the slightest."

"I think that's code for leave now," Wells grinned down at Clarke, turning from his father. "Come on, let's go find Finn and Raven." Clarke agreed, walking arm and arm with Wells across the atrium. She was so excited to speak to him again after two months of busy internships and work.

"It's been too long Wells," she smiled, squeezing his arm. "Seriously, last I knew you were determined to get an internship at the university but now you're working for the embassy? What gives?"

"My father's wishes," he sighed, looking over at her as he led her into the garden, standing amongst the flowers and musicians playing a soft tune. "He said if I served a year internship at the embassy, I could do a year at the university."

"That's unfair," she admitted, looking up at the dark blue sky above. "I'm glad my parents never stopped me from joining the hospital."

"They would never," he laughed, nudging her with his arm. "You becoming a doctor would fulfill their every desire."

"Not every," she pointed, feeling a slight tint come to her cheeks. Though she and Wells had been friends since the academy, she still felt embarrassed speaking to him about suitors. "They're pressing me to choose a future husband. Even if we're not to be married right away, I must make the decision within the year."

"But you're not 18 for another two years," Wells chimed in, taking sip of the drink he'd been carrying. Clarke mirrored him with her own drink and soon they were laughing and talking again as if they hadn't just spent two months apart.

"You try telling them that," she laughed. "Do you know how hard it is to persuade my mother and father of anything?"

"I just can't believe they are pushing you so soon," Wells shrugged. "Doesn't your father want to you learn the ropes? No offence but you have a lot to learn if you want to fill his shoes."

"He refuses to apprentice me until I've made a proper match," Clarke sighed. "I know what he's afraid of. He wants to be sure that I've got someone watching my back in case things turn sour within the council. He wants me to choose someone he can approve of."

"So, does that limit or expand the field?" Wells asked, grinning down at her. "Because someone your father can approve of could be anyone. He's a pretty understanding guy whereas his daughter…"

"I am not that hard to please," Clarke said, narrowing her eyes at him playfully.

"You're quite set in your ways," Wells smirked, eliciting a grin from her. "But, that's just because you stand your ground. Something very important in our position."

"I guess there is no escaping the talk of politics tonight, is there?" Clarke asked, smiling brightly. "At least I have you, Raven, and Finn; I can always count on you guys to have my back when things get tough."

"Speaking of Raven and Finn, I haven't seen them yet," Wells commented, looking around the room.

They both laughed and joked, walking about the atrium and speaking to guests until Clarke heard a familiar voice behind her. "Clarke," it hummed and she turned to see Raven Reyes, the most influential mechanic of the entire internship program at the Aeronautics Research Facility. "I've missed you!" She quickly wrapped Clarke in a hug, a chuckle escaping her lips.

"I've missed you too! Where's Finn? How's the internship going?" Clarke had so many questions and Raven's bright brown eyes twinkled with excitement through her ornate maroon and orange mask.

"Finn didn't come?" Wells asked, looking about. "He was great in the arena today."

"He'll be here soon," she laughed. "He wouldn't refuse an invitation from your father."

"He's made a name for himself in the past few years," Wells nodded. "He was always a smart guy but lately he's been earning fame as well as fortune."

"He's poured himself into the arena," Raven replied, her voice soft. "He says that he feels most alive when he's between life and death. Personally, I don't mind the arena matches and the military postings. It keeps us travelling most of the time…"

"That sounds like Finn," Wells grinned. "He needs to relax a while. Two victories in one day has to be exhausting."

"I'm fit as a fiddle," came Finn's voice as he moved between Raven and Wells, a matching maroon and orange mask on his face. "And hungry as well. This food is delicious as is the drink."

"My father goes overboard again," Clarke smirked. "His gift today was well received and now I think he means to boast to all who will listen."

"Well, if he keeps feeding me, I'll continue to praise him," Finn laughed, popping a pastry into his mouth before downing the rest of his drink.

"Where is Lily tonight?" Clarke asked, looking about for the familiar girls face.

"She opted to stay home," Raven shrugged, taking a drink from her cup. "Lexa leaving so quickly has taken a toll on her."

"Your sister is insane," Finn grinned. "Does she ever enjoy anything? Other than sweets and training."

"The occasional hunt," Raven laughed. "She's smart but a tiresome brat when it comes to getting what she wants. Last week my father told her that she'll have to get married one day and I swear, I've never seen such a verbal beat-down. Father was placating her for three days after that. Buying her new boots and a brand-new blade…"

"Lily does have a mind of her own," Clarke commented, recalling the bright eyed dark haired girl Raven had introduced to them as children. "I wish Lexa could have stayed."

"She's got a lot on her mind," Wells noted, looking between them. "Her father has been pushing her to come back to Polis and become his second for almost a year now."

"That's an honor!" Finn said, his eyes alight with the possibilities. "I am actually quite jealous."

"Like you won't be chosen to serve as Council Security," Raven laughed, slapping his arm. "You're the best warrior out of the entire crop of fresh recruits. There is no way you'll be passed over."

"Not with two victories in one day," Wells nodded, patting his friend on the shoulder.

"A position within the forum would be great," Finn nodded, looking between the three teens, his only friends in the world. "But it's just the life of a glorified body-guard. I wouldn't see battle or the arena ever again."

"The army conscripts all their commanders from the forum guard," Clarke pointed, her eyes flitting between Wells and Finn. "Speak sense to your friend, Wells. He's obviously gone mad. One too many hits in the arena today has jarred his brain loose."

"Oh, very funny," Finn laughed, patting Wells on the shoulder. "I'm simply saying that I'll never be able to truly test my skills and it is a damn shame."

"Then let us toast," Raven laughed, raising her cup. "To Finn's skills; may they never dull."

The group laughed and drank together, the conversation flowing on as they roamed the atrium and garden. Wells talked about the embassy and all the grounder clans he'd been familiarized with. Raven spoke of her project at the A.R.F. and the breakthrough that she and Wick had discovered. Clarke listened as she spoke of the armored rover they were currently working on. It was much larger than most of their other vehicles and featured different modes of use including an aquatic feature.

After Raven started gushing about reinforced steel doors and bumpers, Clarke couldn't help but let her mind wander. Wells and Finn seemed content to talk with Raven about her breakthroughs but Clarke could feel a nervous grinding in her stomach. As she peered around she noticed more people had arrived, some she'd never spoken to before, finely dressed and roaming her home. She was almost stunned to find that these unfamiliar faces weren't that at all: a small group of teens her age were standing near the rotating drink dispenser, analyzing it critically.

One, Clarke recognized, was Monty Green. He had a blue mask on but she recognized his hair and tense body language. He was a smart boy, always involved in the tech lab at A.R.F. and maintained his studies after the academy. Another boy, standing next to him looking incredibly at ease, was Jasper Jordan. There was no doubt in Clarke's mind as to who it was, the slow swaying as he enjoyed the music and the constant drinks of alcohol revealed him before he even removed his yellow and purple mask.

He looked more a jester but the two women they were standing with weren't familiar to her. One was wearing a soft pink dress that flowed over her like a cascade of water. It was quite elegant and her auburn hair was straight and long, matching the lines of the dress. The other was dressed in a simple black dress, her brown hair and green eyes overshadowing the mask she'd used to conceal herself. She was a tall girl, almost just as tall as Jasper, with a toned form that Clarke was unable to place. She knew these girls from somewhere but she couldn't quite remember. Clarke realized she was staring at that point and immediately looked away, making Raven pause her story to look at her.

"What's up?" she asked, Finn and Wells replacing their drinks with others as a waiter walked by.

"Don't look all at once," Clarke said, turning to Wells and then Finn. "But Monty Green and Jasper Jordan are standing by the fountain. I think they caught me staring but I couldn't quite figure out who their dates were."

"I wouldn't call those dates," Raven whispered after she glanced over her shoulder. "I recognize them. One of them is the heiress to the McIntyre family, Harper. The other is the sister of John Murphy, Kat. Apparently both women are aiming to join the council security team as well."

"Really?" Finn asked, his eyes finding the two women for the second time. "Perhaps they will be part of my class of recruits."

"I wouldn't try anything rash," Wells warned, the smile leaving his face. "Those two women are just as well trained as the men."

"Who said I was rash?" Finn laughed, nudging Raven with a wink. She blushed slightly and then slapped his arm.

"Enough of that," she sighed, looking over at Clarke. "Since they're here, we can expect that the Blake family will show up at any time."

"If they show up," Clarke bit, rolling her eyes. "I'm not looking forward to it."

"None of us are," Wells assured and Raven nodded in agreement. "They'll be here long enough to speak with the people of importance and then leave."

"That's probably why my father went overboard," Clarke sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose under her simple white and gold mask.

"Oh, definitely," Finn quipped, sipping his drink again. "As usual, a Griffin party never disappoints."

"You're just looking forward to speaking with the Blake heir," Raven mused, nudging Finn again.

"Why would you want to talk to him?" Clarke asked, a little too quickly, the disgust evident in her voice.

The three teens looked at her for a moment before Finn answered, cautiously measuring his next words. "He won his match this morning," Finn shrugged, taking another sip to conceal the grin growing over his lips. "And I am curious to meet the man that stands with an undefeated record."

"You stand undefeated," Clarke pointed. "So why would you want to meet him?"

"I am undefeated in arena matches," Finn corrected, looking over at Wells for some help. They could all see Clarke's mind spinning and smoldering behind her eyes.

"Bellamy Blake has never been defeated, in any match," Wells drawled, his eyes scanning the room quickly before continuing. "He's two years older than us and ever since his matches during prep-school, he's been undefeated."

Clarke only looked up at him doubtfully and Raven laughed, wrapping her arm through Clarkes. "What these idiots mean," Raven whispered, eyeing the group of teens that Clarke had spotted. "Is that he's been doing melee and fighting competitions since his first year in prep-school. He's never been defeated in a match, even after he graduated top of his class and went into the embassy internship."

"Rumor has it," Finn smirked, leaning between them with delighted eyes. "That Lincoln Xander helped train him at an early age."

"Today's champion?" Clarke asked, her eyes widening at the thought of the man in the pits from that day.

"Yes, but he's yet to go up against his master," Finn smiled. "Or me…"

"You're confident," Wells said, downing the rest of his cup. "I'm sorry friend but I'd bet on him over you."

"You've broken my heart, dear friend!" Finn laughed, gaining some attention from Monty and his group. Raven and Clarke had been staring at them and immediately turned away now, motioning for Finn and Wells to follow. They did and the group made their way toward the growing group of adults near the entrance. Clarke could still hear her father laughing and speaking with Thelonious.

The huddle of adults around her father were all enamored, listening to his recollection of some past event. It was only when her mother glanced over and caught her eye did she understand; he was telling a story about her.

"And Clarke was a sharp kid though," her father smiled through his mask. "Oh, she was smart. She and Wells almost convinced Abby to teach them how to make cake just so they could eat it for dinner instead of the actual feast."

"I remember," Sarah smiled, looking up at Thelonious with loving eyes. "Wells brought the essay home that Abby made them write on the dangers of increased blood glucose levels. It was so cute!"

"And mean," Clarke chimed in, stepping away from Raven towards her father. He extended his hand and kissed her cheek, Wells joining her with his parents once again. "I still don't know how to bake a cake."

"And I hated the feast," Wells smiled, looking over at his father. "I understand the need to embrace other cultures but the grounder dishes were less than desirable."

"Our picky eaters have returned," Thelonious grinned, wrapping an arm around Wells' shoulders. "Have you spoken to our newly arrived guests?"

It was then that Clarke and Wells noticed Monty and Harper's parents standing before them. Wells immediately turned, first shaking the men's hands and then kissing the women's cheeks. Clarke followed suit, noticing that his mother's eyes were almost exactly like Monty's.

"It is lovely to see you again," Monty's mother smiled, kissing Clarke's cheek. "You've grown so much; I hardly recognized you."

"Thank you, Mrs. Green," Clarke smiled, feeling the slight blush spread over her cheeks. "You look lovely this evening as do you, Mrs. McIntyre. I love the colors of your dress."

Clarke was used to idle chit-chat, pointless complements, and long winded small-talk; she just fell into the routine of asking simple but thoughtful questions of her guests. Both families seemed at ease to be here, Mr. Green speaking excitedly to her father and Thelonious as her mother spoke to their wives of the festival and the games. Clarke took her que then, stepping back from the group to find Raven and Finn who had left them at the entrance.

"Oh, Clarke dear," her mother said, stopping her from leaving them. "Please, go say hello to Harper and Monty. It's been a while since you've seen them and I'm sure their anxious to speak to their hostess."

"And here I thought you and father were the hosts," Clarke smiled coyly before nodding at her mother's guests. She then moved from the group, grabbing Wells' arm in the process and leading him away from the now dulling conversations of the adults.

"Where are we going?" he asked, leaning down to whisper in her ear.

"Saying hello to Monty and the others," she said, gripping his arm tighter. "If I have to than so do you…"

"It's not my family's party," he replied, a smirk evident on his lips. He then straightened back up, keeping stride with her as they made their way toward the awkward group of teens who stood near the corner of the atrium. They were uncomfortably standing near the balcony that overlooked the houses below in a small group. The two women, who Clarke knew now as Harper and Kat, stood against the wall, their arms crossed and their masks sitting atop their heads. They were conversing between themselves as Monty played with his hand-held, sipping at a cup of something Jasper poured from his flask.

When Jasper spotted them approaching, he nudged Monty and came striding forward, a large smile overtaking his thin face. "Ah, Wells Jaha and Clarke Griffin," he waved, shaking Wells' hand before turning to Clarke. "It's a wonderful party."

"And I'm so honored you all decided to come," Clarke replied, smiling at the other three teens that approached. They also smiled but Clarke knew their smiles weren't genuine. "It is great to see you all again."

"How have you been, Monty? Harper? Kat?" Wells asked, recognizing each of them.

"Great," Kat spoke up, moving to stand next to Jasper. "But I don't believe we've met before." She extended her hand to Clarke and Clarke took it gently, smiling at the younger girl. "I'm Kat Murphy."

"Nice to meet you Kat," Clarke nodded, looking over at Jasper who was quite close to the tall dark haired girl. "Are you enjoying the Unity Day celebrations?"

"Yeah, we have," Jasper smiled, making Kat blush slightly. Jasper only chuckled, looking over at Wells in mild curiosity. "I hear you are interning at the embassy. Congratulations."

"It's nothing," he waved, looking over at Monty. "I hear you're interning at the A.R.F. with Raven. How is it going?"

"It has its perks," Monty smiled, his arm hooked with Harper's. "It keeps me busy for the most part but I enjoy the challenge. How have you been Clarke? It's been almost six years since we graduated the academy and I hear you are interning at the hospital now. How do you like it?"

"It has its perks," she quipped back, a smile on her face. "I'm working to become a surgeon like my mother. She learned from her mother who served in the wars so it's a grueling profession to learn. I've had little time to focus on anything but my studies and practice."

"Sounds fun," Jasper smiled at her. "And gruesome. Tell me, the blood and gore doesn't make you uneasy?"

"Not at all," Clarke said, feeling a little self-conscious. "The blood and gore is what I specialize in."

"An interesting choice," Harper spoke, smiling over at Clarke. "We always knew you were a unique girl; even in the academy we knew. Do you plan on applying for a position at the hospital after your internship?"

"I hope to," she nodded, appreciating Harper's recollection of her in their school days. "I'm the top recruit and I've been learning from my mom since I was old enough to read."

"Doesn't it bore you sometimes?" Monty asked, his voice pleasant but the inflection of the question pulled one too many of Clarke's strings.

"No, not at all," she smiled, squeezing Wells' arm. "It's a passion, something I absolutely love. I couldn't even fathom being bored with medical science. It's always evolving, always changing; it's a never-ending maze of discovery and I love the challenge." She then looked over at Kat, whose face was filled with curiosity and suspicion. "Your brother Jon could not attend tonight, Kat?" Clarke asked, turning the subject from Monty's questioning. "I remember him from the academy as well. He always had something interesting to say."

"He should be arriving soon," Kat replied, glancing about. "He's actually interning with Harper's family at the military base but enjoys the city too much for his own good."

"I heard he's made a small fortune for himself," Wells spoke up, nodding enthusiastically. "I had hoped he'd take an internship at the embassy so I could speak with him again."

"I'm sure he'd be flattered and a little boastful at your encouragement," Kat laughed, looking up at Jasper who had started pouring drinks for everyone from his flask.

"Ah," Jasper said, noticing Clarke and Wells' reaction. "I always take my favorite drink with me to parties. It's a special brew that I don't sell intended only for my close friends. Would you care to try it?"

"It's quite good," Harper chimed, sipping on her cup next to Monty who was maintaining a pleasant façade. "It's fruity but smells quite flowery and has a good kick to it."

"I'll try it," Wells nodded, looking over at Clarke with a smile. "Come on, it sounds good."

Clarke agreed with a nod, holding up her empty cup. Jasper put a shot of the drink in it and poured his own drink, nodding for the others to wait. He then raised his cup and looked about the group, smiling happily. "To Arkadia," he insisted. "And another hundred years." Everyone in the group laughed and chuckled softly before downing the drink. Harper was right; the drink was sweet and tangy but smelled of the strongest flowers. The kick at the end almost made Clarke cough, hiding her distaste at the intensity of the drink.

"So," Jasper pressed, looking between the two of them. "Are you two engaged or still friends?" It was only then that Clarke became aware of how close she and Wells were standing. She didn't want to make it more obvious so she didn't move, just remained holding his arm through his elbow and smiling at Jasper's question.

"We're friends Jasper," Wells explained, looking over at her. "We've been friends since we were old enough to walk."

"Probably longer than that," Clarke joked, looking around at the group. "Our parents have been friends since their prep-school days; we were probably planned to be this close."

"Our parents couldn't have designed a more perfect team," Wells joked, nudging her slightly. "Though, they probably tried."

"What about you guys?" Clarke asked, turning her attention to the four of them. Jasper and Kat had been flirting and close to one another the entire conversation. Monty, though remaining tight lipped, was obviously escorting Harper. "Any engagements or marriages?"

"Not yet," Jasper grinned and Kat blushed a bit, sipping on more of her drink and looking over the guests in the atrium. "One day a lucky lady will win my affections…" Jasper continued, grinning even wider. "But until I win hers, it is all for not."

"Love sought is good, but given unsought is better," Clakre quoted, seeing the look Jasper and Kat were sharing. It made all four of the teens look at her and then Monty spoke, this time without cover of pleasantries or duty.

"Shakespeare fan, huh?" he asked, looking her over. "I wouldn't have expected that."

"Expectation is the root of all heartache," Clarke quipped, a smirk forming on her face. "Do you enjoy Shakespeare, Monty?"

"To an extent," he replied, politely smiling back at her. "I remember you from the academy Clarke. You were always clever but if I remember correctly, you were also fierce. Seems that girl is still in there somewhere…"

"You were always so nice," Clarke pointed, looking over at Jasper now. "Of the two of you, I believe Jasper was the more troublesome one."

"I remember your stink bomb prank when we were at the academy," Wells laughed, making the rest of them smile. "It was brilliantly executed. Mrs. Kane didn't know what to do and it smelled horrible for weeks."

"Ah," Jasper laughed, looking to Harper and Monty. "See, a man who appreciates a fine joke."

"Well appreciated," Wells admitted. "We got out of class early that afternoon."

"We snuck into the botanical garden after that," Monty remembered, a genuine smile on his face. "My mom was so mad when she found out what we'd done to her lavender."

"You two were impossible," Harper smiled, looking over at Kat.

"They still are," Kat noted, taking another sip of her drink. "Finally," she sighed, looking over the crowd and waving at someone. The group turned to notice Jon Murphy walking toward them, dressed in a bright orange mask, his outfit adorned with the color over a simple black tunic.

"Hey," he said, taking his sisters arm and kissing her cheek. "Sorry about that. My best friend is a royal ass."

"He's not even here yet!" Kat groaned, shaking her head. "I was beginning to worry you wouldn't make it either."

"Oh, he'll be here just like I am," Jon said, turning to spot Wells and Clarke. A wide grin spread over his lips now and he extended his hand to Wells. "Wells, Clarke, nice to see you again. Been a while since the academy."

"You too Jon," Wells said, shaking his hand. "Would you like a drink?" Wells reached around Clarke to take a drink from a caterer's tray, handing it to Jon gently.

"You're too kind Wells," Jon nodded, looking between Jasper and Monty. "So, what did I miss?"

"Reminiscing over the stink bomb prank at the academy," Jasper smiled, looking over at Monty. "Wells appreciates a fine prank unlike some people."

"It was funny," Monty admitted, looking a bit sheepish. "But I was royally screwed from that day until the end of the semester. My mom was so pissed."

"I remember that day like it was yesterday," Jon nodded. "I remember the teacher's face when the bomb went off. I also remember her frustration; I'd never seen her so mad. Lucky Clarke was there though; she was the one who managed to throw it out the window before the whole room was full of smoke."

"It burned my thumb," Clarke laughed, remembering the day. "It smelled so awful- like rotten eggs and sour milk."

"One of the best days in that place," Jon nodded, stepping between his sister and Jasper. "So, Jasper, got some of that fine brew of yours?"

"I do," he smiled, glancing briefly at Kat who was smirking at him behind Jon's back. Jasper poured him some of the drink and then finished off the rest into his own cup. "Well, there it goes my friends. The last of our drink."

"The drinks are gone?" came a voice and Clarke turned to see Finn and Raven. Raven was holding a drink and Finn was wearing his classic charming smile. "I hope we haven't run out yet," Finn continued. "I haven't had nearly enough."

"No, we're stocked," Clarke smiled, letting go of Well's arm and turning to Raven. She wrapped her arm through hers and smiled, looking over her shoulder at the rest of the group. Raven understood the gesture and smiled, holding out her hand for someone to take.

"Hello," she said, a brilliant smile spread over her lips. "I'm Raven Reyes. A.R.F. intern."

"I know you," Monty said, extending his hand to hers. "You work in engineering and mechanics."

"And you work in coding and software," she chuckled. "How are you Monty?"

"I'm great," he nodded, looking over at the rest of his friends as he introduced them.

Clarke stepped past Finn, who'd walked up beside Raven, and headed for the garden. She needed fresh air for a minute and somewhere without conversation. Though she had enjoyed catching up with her classmates, she didn't care for pleasantries and idle conversation. It wasn't entirely boring though; she just didn't care for the fake smiles and minced words.

She inhaled deeply as the scent of earth and flowers filled her nose. It was relaxing to her and as she sat on a small but unclaimed bench, she couldn't help but stare at the sky. The stars overhead were shining brightly in their thousands and the clouds that had threatened rain had cleared away. She couldn't remember seeing a more beautiful night's sky and wondered if it was right that she was the only one appreciating this view.

* * *

"Now listen," Kayden said, looking over at Bellamy with a tight jaw. "We need to be gracious but firm. We'll only stay long enough to speak to the family, be seen and talked to by others, and then we are going home."

"Octavia was so mad she couldn't come," Aurora said, looking over at her husband. "And I honestly didn't want to come at all. If we're not coming to enjoy ourselves, why bother?"

"You know why," Kayden sighed, stepping up the first set of stairs that led to the villa's entrance. "Now smile and suffer through this."

"If I wasn't so tired I would argue with you," Bellamy groaned, following his mother and father onto the landing and into the opened double doors of the Griffin's villa.

There was laughter and loud conversations all around them as they stepped into a beautiful atrium, larger than their own that opened in the middle with an expansive garden of shrubs and flowers. There were musicians dressed in ornate clothing and costumes, playing music and dancing along with all of the caterers carrying trays of the most delectable pastries, sweets, and meats. Bellamy licked his lips at the sight of the many drinks being carried about the room on open palms. He was quickly pulled back to attention by his father who had spotted the host of the party.

The Griffins were standing with the most elite of society. The Jahas, Greens, McIntyres, Murphys, Reyes, Collins, and major delegates were all swarming in this one spot, enjoying individual conversations. The moment Jake Griffin spotted Bellamy's father he moved through the crowd to greet him, his dazzling smile never fading.

"Kayden," Jake said, taking Kayden's hand. "I had feared you wouldn't come. You've been missed."

"My daughter," Kayden smiled, shaking the host's hand firmly. "She wasn't easy to escape."

"Daughters have that effect," he smiled, turning to Aurora. "You look lovely tonight my dear. Please, have some wine."

Jake turned to a waiting caterer and handed them each a cup. He then moved aside so that his wife, Abby Griffin, could greet them. After some minor pleasantries and greetings, Jake turned to Bellamy, a wide grin on his face.

"Bellamy," he smiled warmly. "I enjoyed your victory this morning. Are you applying for a position at the embassy? I'd love to write you a recommendation."

"I am considering it sir," Bellamy smiled. "But I must first finish my work in Judge Xander's office."

"Bellamy is the top of his class of recruits," Aurora smiled, looking about. "Where is young Clarke? I remember seeing her at the games today and she looked quite stunning. I wouldn't have recognized her had she not been with you, Abby."

"Ah," Jake said, looking about. "I believe she is over there, by the balcony, with everyone."

"You should go pay your respects to the hostess," Kayden said, looking at Bellamy intently. "Your friends will be happy to see you as well."

Bellamy only nodded, smiling as he left. He understood his father's intentions and knew that it was time for him to play nice with the heiress. He moved through the small groups of guests, all speaking amongst themselves and enjoying the good food and drink. Bellamy almost growled at the lavish floating drink dispenser and all the fine decorations. He knew the Griffin's were the wealthiest family in Arkadia but their wealth practically oozed from the walls. He painfully realized that even his own family's wealth just couldn't compare and he'd decided that he'd rather be anywhere else but here. He was so tired and if it wasn't for Jon waking him from his hidden slumber in the barracks, he'd never have woken for the party. Bellamy moved around a large group of people laughing about some joke and couldn't help the twitch of his jaw. It was all so tedious and boring; he needed to just get this all over with. He had stepped around a few caterers and had made it to the edge of the atrium when he spotted the most miraculous thing.

There, sitting on a bench and gazing up at the night sky was the stunning blonde herself. She was leisurely leaning on her palms among the small bushes and flowers paying no mind to the world around her. The light reflected off her beautiful white and gold gown and Bellamy felt a sudden rush of energy within him. He had been tired and groggy coming into this party but now something hummed through him and he wasn't quite sure how to place it.

He almost felt giddy as he stood there, admiring the young blonde's face. Her blue eyes were lifted to the heavens and her feet were crossed under her. She had a wondrous grin that accented the tiny mole above her lip. If anything, she looked like a child marveled by a new toy or trinket. He wasn't sure what prompted it but he wanted to take in the sight before him, every detail retained in memory. The white, purple, and yellow flowers around her created an ideal scene and he only wished he'd had some sort of camera to capture the moment. It was then that he also wondered if it was right that he was the only one appreciating this view.

Before he could stop himself, he'd started walking toward her, each stride meaningful and confident. He stood behind her seconds later, a smile spread over his face as he glanced up at the night sky to see what she was so enamored with. Without alarming her he then leaned over her shoulder slowly, to whisper in her ear, making her jump and then freeze on the bench. "What's so fascinating?"

* * *

 _What's so fascinating?"_

Clarke almost jumped from the bench she was sitting on when she heard the deep but playful voice in her ear. She didn't recognize it; it was soft but commanding and she wondered if perhaps she had imagined it. But the warm breath on her shoulder and ear made her stiffen. Slowly, but steadily, she turned to see none other than Bellamy Blake, a smile on his dimpled cheeks as the simple black and silver mask sat atop his curls. He had a glass of something in his hand and his black eyes almost enchanted her in that moment.

"The view," she replied, moving to stand. She had looked away from his tanned and freckled face, glancing back up at the sky. "The sky is clear and the stars look beautiful."

After a brief silence, she looked over at him to see that he too was staring at the sky. A small grin pulled at the corner of her mouth and he nodded in agreement, looking back at her. She quickly extended her hand, realizing they'd not been introduced. "Glad you could be here, I'm Clarke Griffin."

"I know," he replied, confidence in his voice. "I saw you in the arena, earlier?"

"I'm aware," she said, a little bristled by his indifference to her introduction, pulling her hand back.

"I'm Bellamy Blake," he nodded, taking it suddenly and leaning in to graze her cheek with his lips. "I wanted to introduce myself and apologize for my attentions earlier during the games. I wasn't trying to offend you."

"No need for an apology," she insisted, stepping away from him and releasing his hand. "But please, enjoy the party and the refreshments."

"I am already enjoying myself," he said, looking back up at the sky. "Though, I do admit to doubting that I would."

"Why would you doubt it?" Clarke asked, her eyes slightly narrowed. She'd been maintaining a civil tongue and demeanor but his comments and tone of voice automatically offended her.

"I am quite tired," he replied, hearing the edge in her voice. He couldn't help but feel a little bit of pride knowing he'd gotten her full attention. "Many tiring exploits today, both in and out of the arena."

"Of course," she smiled, regaining her composure and kind tone. "Your victory this morning was quite the fight."

"It was exhilarating," Bellamy admitted, his eyes never leaving her face. She was hidden behind a white and gold mask but her eyes shined bright. She must have noticed him pondering the mask because, with slow reserve, she pulled it up over her forehead. Once she did, he was even more stunned by clenching of her jaw and the reservations in her muscles as she smiled up at him. He wanted to gauge this girl who presented such a kind mask of civility. "Are you a fan of the pit?"

"I can't admit to being interested in the games," she said, her voice tight. "I am sorry if that offends."

"Why would I be offended by contrasting opinions?" Bellamy asked, his eyes wide. "Some people don't like the color red; that doesn't mean it isn't my favorite."

"You seemed quite thrilled with the final match today so I meant not to demean the effort or the enjoyment," she replied, watching his response. She wanted to remain polite but make it clear she wasn't pleased with that sort of violence and slaughter. "But the barbarity is a bit too much. I'm a doctor and seeing that kind of voluntary bloodshed goes against everything I believe. Plus, I don't think the council even pays attention to the games."

"Keen observation," he smirked, sipping on the drink he had left before crossing his arms over his torso. "But you don't appreciate the effect the fights have on the people of Arkadia."

"I appreciate their need to see friendly contest," she shrugged, making sure to accentuate the disinterest in her tone. "It is important to feed the rivalry in a controlled manner, to see competition and bloodshed. That, no matter how distasteful, is the foundation of the games."

"It isn't just about the entertainment," Bellamy assured, an amused smile on his face. He could see the twitch behind her lips, the defiance in her eyes as he spoke. "The healthy rivalry between political factions keeps the commoners from breaking out into petty squabbles in the streets; from civil war. It also feeds the basic human instinct to kill. This way, at least we can control what happens, who fights and how. Even if the council doesn't care for the games, they lend their names to champions so their approval ratings never fall. It's a win-win scenario."

"I'm aware of the purpose," she replied, the slight inflection of annoyance in her voice smoothed by her dazzling smile. "I need no lessons or lectures in politics, history, and philosophy. I merely suggest that it seems to be a barbaric system. Our ancestors practiced such barbarism with slaves, with many human lives. Why are we emulating that? Surely there must be common ground between factions? A better way of policing our own people and keeping them safe from international threats as well as domestic?"

Bellamy was staring entranced by the girl before him. She offered grit and ferocity in one hand and gentility and wit in the other. She was something amazing that Bellamy couldn't help but marvel at. She noticed his lost gaze, the sense of analysis written on his face, and she met his eye, determined not to back down. He wasn't at all what she had expected but she could see, behind the fascinated smile and thoughtful eyes, the brute in the pit.

"Perhaps," he uttered, noticing her challenge. "There could one day be common ground and we could, in theory, enact a peaceful and simple solution. However, history cannot be erased or easily forgotten, Clarke. This rivalry sprang from civil war, family killing family. Vendettas, murder, chaos, difference in opinion, and even free-will cannot be overcome without a tremendous amount of force."

"I don't mean to take away free-will," she replied, her voice low and her jaw set. "I only mean that ending the rivalry would result in the opportunity for peaceful dialog."

"Peace?" he smiled, taking a step closer to her. "How innocent you are…"

Clarke stood her ground, staring up at him without her typical kind mask. She had shed that and immediately became irritated, his suggestion repulsing her. This arrogant and greedy man was a guest in her house and she knew she couldn't fire back at him as she pleased. She also knew that a working relationship with this person would benefit her in the long-run. Bellamy only smirked, placing his hands in his pockets and looking down at her with amused expectation.

"As you said earlier, you are quite tired. It seems that, in your stupor, you forgot your manners," she snapped back at him, her lip twitching in irritation. "Some of us are more hopeful about the future than others and as you've said; why be offended by contrasting opinions? Please, enjoy the masquerade." She then turned on her heel, pulled her mask down and walked away. She was almost stomping toward Raven, Finn, and Wells who were all standing together again, away from the others. Clarke had decided that she needed another drink and more appealing company to distract her thoughts from those irritatingly beautiful black eyes.

* * *

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well. One more left!**


	3. Chapter 3: The List

**Chapter three rewritten! I am posting one more chapter on here so you can see the alternate direction the story is going to go in compared to the former version posted on here. Enjoy!**

* * *

"That was intense," came a voice from behind and Bellamy turned to see Jasper approaching, along with the rest of their outcast group. "What could you and the heiress have been talking about to spur such a reaction from the princess?"

"She's intense," Bellamy smiled, turning to the group now. "We were discussing politics."

"Not the typical conversation choice for a party but once again, Bellamy shits to bed," Jon laughed, taking a drink from his cup.

"She's a doctor," Harper insisted, her eyes narrowed on the girl across the room. "What could she possibly have to add to such a discussion?"

"Not much," Bellamy admitted, a grin across his face. "But she's optimistic."

"Optimists are quite cute," Jasper insisted, glancing over at the young hostess.

"What did you say to make her so angry?" Monty asked, looking over at Bellamy. "And your reactions were pretty intense as well. What were you really talking about?"

"She's not a fan of the pit fighting and the executions," Bellamy said, sipping on his new drink. "She seems believe that they're just distractions politicians use to avoid peaceful discussions and solutions."

"She's not wrong," Jon smiled, drinking from his cup. "But what did you say to anger her like that? She looked like she wanted to slap you."

"She's more ferocious than we assumed," Kat smiled, gazing at Clarke and the others across the room. "She honestly believes there can be peaceful discourse between your families?"

"It would seem so," Bellamy chuckled. "If she didn't, she wouldn't have gotten so mad when I called her innocent."

"That's not inaccurate," Jasper grinned. "She is entirely too innocent."

"Not to mention, there isn't a profit to be made from peace," Murphy pointed out. "Who would lead us? Uneducated street gangs and cartels plucked from the common people?"

"She's so naïve," Monty sighed, looking back at Jasper. "Without our families, Arkadia would have fallen to grounders before we'd even had a chance to build."

"She's seen more blood and gore than any of us though," Harper points out, squeezing Monty's arm. "A profession like that has to take nerves of steel."

"I wouldn't doubt that for a moment," Jasper laughed, swaying to the music that surrounded them. "So, since you're finally here, what say we enjoy some dance and refreshments?"

"I'm not staying long," Bellamy smirked, leaning to whisper to Jasper. "But perhaps we can make the night a bit more interesting?"

Jasper grinned, nodding for him to follow. Monty, Harper, and Jon all spoke amongst one another until they spotted some friends who'd showed up after Bellamy. They left Jasper, Kat, and Bellamy to wander the atrium on their own as they made their way further from the crowds. Jasper motioned for the two to follow onto the balcony and as they did, they were thankful for the cool air that greeted them.

"So, you intend to stay longer than?" Jasper asked, pulling something from his pocket.

"I may," Bellamy grinned. "I wasn't really keen on staying longer than necessary but I think I may be interested after all."

"You're like a window," Kat smirked, taking the little vial from Jasper's hands and pouring some of the white powder into her cup. "I can easily see through you and we both know that you only stay to irritate Clarke."

"That's Bellamy," Jasper smirked. "He enjoys only a few delights in his stoic life. Getting a rise out of a pretty girl is definitely one of them."

"She's just so optimistic," Bellamy grinned, holding out his cup so that Kat could pour some of the powder into it. "Even when angry she's so unbelievably kind; it's a fascination I can't quite place. Like looking at an old painting or reading an old book; the meaning has yet to reveal itself."

"You're sick sometimes," Jasper grinned, putting some powder in his own drink before pocketing the vial.

"He's just never met a girl that can match his wit and intensity," Kat pointed, sipping on her drink. "Bellamy the lady-killer has finally been struck down by someone who is far, far out of his reach. Ah, the karmic justice is satisfying to witness."

"You're cruel," Jasper grinned, taking a drink of his own before patting Bellamy on the shoulder. "Perhaps we should leave before you cause any more damage? We can go to Peacelings and enjoy the rest of the night without judgmental eyes."

"We can go swimming! It's nearly summer anyway and the water can't be that cold," Kat grinned, looking over at Jasper.

"Like your brother would go for that," Bellamy chuckled, sipping his drink and allowing his eyes to drift around the atrium. "Besides, you're only fourteen Kat. I think you should stay away from degenerates like Jasper until your old enough to know better."

"Is this how you speak about your friends?" Jasper asked, looking over Bellamy with a soft smirk. "I'm no degenerate; I'm a perfect gentleman."

"When you want to be," Kat laughed, looking over the balcony now, her eyes fading into deeper thoughts. Bellamy could see the wonder in Jasper's eyes as he looked at her and took his que to leave. While Jasper and Kat spoke softly on the balcony, Bellamy decided to roam around the atrium, deciding how he could apologize to Clarke.

He didn't think it entirely necessary but knew that insulting her in her own home at her father's party would only strengthen the animosity between their families. As he finished the opium-laced drink, he grabbed another from a roaming caterer, downing it in one gulp. He could see Clarke speaking with Wells Jaha, a noted intern in the embassy under the tutelage of his father Theolonius. Bellamy had occasion to see him while tending to his own work and wondered how long the two had been friends. They seemed close and when Clarke squeezed his arm, laughing at something he'd said, Bellamy felt a twinge of jealousy. It was almost sickening the way it rose within him and made his jaw tense. It was irritating to him because he knew there was nothing to be jealous about; Clarke wasn't his main goal.

Clarke wasn't his type either; fearless and headstrong might be her way but she was too good. Bellamy doubted she had any cruel or negative thoughts in her head. She may be a credit to their caste of greedy politicians and dignitaries but he doubted her inherent goodness would hinder her career. She heals people, saves them and cares for them to the best of her ability; goodness was a requirement.

As Bellamy prowled around the square atrium, he noticed that Clarke was on her own again. She didn't look uncomfortable and she didn't look lonely; she just stood there, sipping on her drink as her eyes scanned the guests. Bellamy leaned against a pillar now, watching her amusedly. He knew that there was no avoiding a verbal backlash but he had to talk to her again. He had to set the record straight and make sure she understood that he meant no offense. In truth, Bellamy knew that no harm would come of knowing his enemy better. He usually was fueled by lust when it came to this kind of fascination but she was something different.

He couldn't really figure her out. She was so many different things, like a matrix of facets that he wanted to unhinge. It was only when he'd started admiring her beauty, usually the first step in his journey, that her eyes met his. He admired how they widened slightly, a sudden blush spreading over her neck and cheeks as they did so. She didn't look away though, steeling her jaw and straightening her shoulders. She only stared back, a soft smile spreading over her face. Bellamy couldn't control himself at that point, drawn in like a hunter to a deer. He strode across the atrium with a smile before stopping short, admiring the way she hardened her resolve.

"Bellamy," she nodded, taking a steady sip from her cup. "You haven't departed for bed yet?"

"No, I find your home and spirits to be more to my liking," he smiled, stealing a sideways glance at her before stepping closer. "I also wanted to apologize for earlier."

"No need," she insisted, her eyes electric blue as they met his. "I got irritated for no reason. I shouldn't have gotten angry at a guest at my own party."

"You had every right," he nodded. "I didn't mean to insult you when I called you innocent. I only meant that it was a breath of fresh air, something I'm not particularly used to working with at the embassy."

She paused a moment, watching him closely before replying, that tight smile spread over her lips. "I'd considered that internship," she offered, trying to find common ground. "But I found that I could help the most people if I were a surgeon."

"That could be reasoned," Bellamy smiled, grabbing another drink from a passing tray. "But if you're a politician, you're saving thousands of lives a day."

"Is that what you are? A politician?" she asked, eyeing him incredulously. "I thought you fought in the arena and in competition?"

"I do," he nodded, laughing at her questions. "But it is possible to be a great warrior and a great diplomat. Since you're a fan of history, you'll appreciate that truth."

"I see," she grimaced, looking a bit sheepish at his jibe. "Then I forgive you for calling me innocent. Since it stands as a compliment, I'll also apologize for my rude tone and disrespect. No matter our differences, you deserve equal treatment."

"Perhaps we should start with a formal introduction, start over?"

"Very well," Clarke agreed, her kind eyes never leaving his face. Bellamy almost felt shy under that bright blue gaze. "My name is Clarke Griffin, hostess and heir to the Griffin family." She then offered him her hand, a strong but timid gesture.

Bellamy didn't hesitate though; he took her hand gently, feeling the warmth in her finger tips as they slid over his palm. "Thank you for the invitation," he said, his voice low but polite. "I'm Bellamy Blake, heir to the Blake family and Representative in the fourth district court of Arkadia."

"Congratulations on being elected earlier this year," Clarke offered, squeezing his hand gently. "The fourth court focuses on violent crimes, doesn't it?"

"Mostly," he confirmed, smirking up at her. "And what about you? I've been told your interning at the hospital under your mother."  
"I am," she responded, curtly cutting the conversation short. "But you must excuse me, I have something I must attend to…"

"Are you always this kind? Where is that biting tongue from earlier?" Bellamy asked, a little shocked by how nice she was being even though she'd completely blown him off. Why was she so good? It bothered him to the point of frustration.

"Not always," she admitted., her jaw tightening and her eyes coming alive once again. "I'm bossy, I'm smart, and I don't like small talk. I don't really care for people's titles or family name because it doesn't matter when they are under the knife. I'm not entirely thrilled to be called innocent but as you mean it as a compliment, I can't be rude and tell you want I really think."

Bellamy laughed aloud, his eyes wide in disbelief. "You haven't been telling me what you really think this whole time?" He took another sip of his drink, hiding the wicked smirk on his lips. "I doubt that."

"You asked where the biting tongue went, here it is," she whispered, not stepping away when he advanced. "I think you always get what you want and aren't used to someone telling you the truth. I see your clever but I also see that you're overconfident and proud. That won't serve you as a politician so I'll wish you luck in all your future endeavors."

Her eyes were firm but her face was alight with righteous indignation, an almost angelic glow about her as she looked at him, waiting for his tart response or sarcastic dialog. He only smiled at her, marveling at her words and the thorough response he was offered. It was a moment too late when he realized that she'd started to turn to leave.

"You're right," Bellamy finally said, a little too loudly, breaking the silence. "I've not been told these things before," he continued, his voice lower and more even now. "And if I'd always gotten what I wanted, I would have stayed home and never been insulted and scolded by you."

"You requested honesty," she retorted. "Isn't that a fresh breath of air as well?"

"You're quite feisty," he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "So much for a fresh start. How about we come to common ground, to peace, as you put it earlier?"

"Is it in your nature to be peaceful?" she asked, the smirk on her face evidence of the insult weighting her question.

"If I were not so tired and intoxicated, I would have a witty retort for you," he winked, finishing the rest of his drink. "All I seek now is a peaceful departure. I fear my friends are ready to leave." He nodded toward the group of teens, all of them speaking quietly amongst themselves, drinking from their cups with sideways glances at Bellamy.

"I remember most of them," Clarke smiled, motioning for him to go. "We have an honest relationship so far. I think it is safe to say that we have reached the pinnacle of this relationship."

"Thank you for the invitation Clarke," Bellamy grinned, a bit flustered from the opium's effects. "I hope we have cause to speak again; I wouldn't want this to be the climax of our friendship."

"Perhaps," she agreed, a gracious smile on her lips. "Have fun on your adventures with your friends. Mine await." She then waved one final time, her fingers lazily wiggling before turning from him. He could see her walking towards Wells and two others he recognized as Raven and Finn. It was only when Jasper whispered over his shoulder that he broke his gaze from her.

"You feeling it, Bell?" Bellamy could practically hear the smirk on his face.

"Ready to go?" he replied, turning to the approaching group.

"Did you enjoy your talk with the princess?" Jon asked, motioning toward the group of teens she was talking to.

"We came to an understanding," Bellamy grinned.

"Then let's go," Monty urged, pulling Harper with him toward the front doors. Jon took his sister's arm and pulled her along, leaving Jasper and Bellamy to follow after them.

"So," Jasper whispered, moving around the atrium and through the guests. "Why are you really so interested in Clarke?" He had a mischievous grin on his face but his eyes were alight with hazy curiosity.

"Father and I have a plan in motion," Bellamy sighed, looking over his shoulder at Clarke. "I think it will be harder to achieve our goal than originally believed."

"I know that look," Jasper smirked. "You're supposed to seduce her."

"Perhaps," Bellamy laughed, putting his arm around Jasper's shoulder. "But for now, let's go enjoy the rest of our night. I feel the opium is only just starting to work."

* * *

Clarke stood with her family near the front door of the villa, wishing their guests goodbye. It was late in the night and Clarke was feeling sleepy already, the events of the day finally catching up with her. As her father and mother saw off the last of the guests, Raven pulled Clarke aside, a smile on her tired face.

"I wanted to talk to you alone before I went home," Raven insisted, moving with her toward one of the cushioned benches. She offered Clarke one last drink and sat beside her on the bench. "You've been on edge most of the night. What's up?"

"Just ready for all these games and festivities to be over," Clarke sighed, sipping her drink slowly. "I'm tired, exhausted really."

"I saw you speaking with Bellamy earlier," Raven smirked, looking sideways at her. "It looked quite heated. Is that what bothers you too?"

"Raven!" Clarke smirked, shaking her head. "He's a peacock; all flare and no substance."

"He is quite attractive though," Raven admitted. "And the way you two spoke was pretty intense. The sexual tension was palpable."

"Shut up!" Clarke laughed, considering the cup in her hand and then looking back over her shoulder for her parents. They were still chatting with someone at the door. "I'm not interested."

"Oh, but he sure was," Raven insisted, drinking from her cup. "But you have to be careful with him Clarke. I heard he has quite a list of conquests."

"The thought is far removed," she replied, rolling her eyes. "He's shallow and greedy; far from an ideal suitor."

"Well, just be warned," she nodded. "Tell me more about what you've been doing. I haven't even seen you in months." Raven then lowered her voice, looking directly at Clarke. "Why is your father pushing a suitor? You haven't even joined him at the embassy yet."

"That's being prepared for," Clark nodded, taking a small sip from her cup. She knew she was somewhat drunk and was glad that the party was over. "He insists that I consider suitors for my own protection. He wants me to prove that I can make tough decisions before giving me more responsibility. It makes sense but I hate that I was pushed into making this choice so soon."

"Any ideas on who you might choose?" Raven asked, looking about the emptied atrium. "There are quite a few eligible bachelors out there."

"I wouldn't know," Clarke shrugged. "I haven't really inquired about relationships or engagements yet. I'm not keen on jumping into this kind of mess."

"Where to begin," she breathed, taking another drink. "Most men are pretty useless and some are even more so. Only a man from a great family will do for you; your father will approve of no other."

"That's why I have a problem with this whole arrangement," Clarke sighed. "What if I did fall for someone beneath my station? Would that be so bad? How am I to know who my heart will choose? Why ask a sixteen-year-old girl that question in the first place?"

"Slow down Clarke," Raven smiled, taking another drink and putting an arm over her shoulder. "There are many eligible and agreeable guys out there. Two of the three Pike brothers are unwed, the oldest is only twenty-one."

"They both own large estates in the countryside," Clarke mused, thinking of both boys who were introduced to her earlier that day at the games. "A country life might be comforting and they are natural allies."

"You want to be away from the hospital?" Raven asked, eyes wide in doubt.

"I would always be able to live in Arkadia with my family," Clarke shrugged. "At least until it was time to have kids."

"Why are you so sensible about this?" Raven asked, eyeing her friend cautiously. "Already considering children and living arrangements; it's like you're engaged already."

"I'm not even close to being engaged," Clarke shrugged, looking back up at Raven with a drunken grimace. "I'll have children one day but to consider children, I first have to consider their father."

"Always so level-headed," Raven shrugged. "So, the Pike brothers are on the top of your list? Landell and Arthur are both good looking."

"But I don't know their personalities," Clarke shrugged. "What can you tell me about them?"

"Landell enjoyed a short career in the arena fights before retiring to attend his father's affairs. I've been told he's fond of the races and gambling but he's not excessive. Some would say he is tempered but I would almost say boring," Raven commented. "He's his father's heir so much is expected of him."

"And Arthur?"

"He's more of a military mind than his older brother," Raven shrugged. "He's the commander of the Northern Army Base and a decorated soldier."

"Not an ideal match for my tastes," Clarke sighed, sipping on her drink. "Others?"

"Well, there's Wells…"

"We're only friends," Clarke assured. "I could never think of him as more than a friend, let alone have children with him."

"Then how about Lucas Chandler?" Raven asked. "He's Thelonious' nephew through his sister. He's made quite a name for himself at the university. Youngest professor yet."

"I haven't seen him since he was a boy," Clarke smiled. "He and Wells would constantly be competing with one another; I don't know how many books they'd read trying to impress one another."

"He's pretty interesting," Raven shrugged. "Wells' other cousin, Nate Keller, is a viable bachelor. I attended his birthday this year and he commissioned a marvelous play; Tennessee Williams."

"Intriguing," Clarke admitted, trying to remember if she'd ever met Nate. "Any others?"

"Well, Wells' mother has several nephews that I've not had the chance to meet. I believe one of them went to academy with us."

"I thought Nate went to the academy with us," Clarke asked, finally remembering the kind boy from their childhood. "What about Noah Miller? His father attended academy with mine."

"He's engaged," Raven smiled. "Apparently, his father arranged it years ago."

"Pity," Clarke groaned. "He's ideal; passionate but tempered. I heard he is sought for a guard position at the embassy.

"Yes but there are other options…" Raven sipped her drink before pressing on. "Monty Green is taken as well as Jasper, even though it isn't official. There are others on that side of the aisle that would suit your needs but I highly doubt you or your family would approve of them. Jon Murphy is a bottom feeder so you may not want to consider him and Harper's cousin Ron is available but rumored to be stepping into the McIntyre line of succession. Thanks to Harper and Monty's close relationship, they needed to rearrange the pecking order. And then there is Bellamy Blake…"

"That's ambitious," Clarke laughed, finishing her drink and hoping to steer the conversation away from Bellamy Blake. "I can't consider any of those men and you know why."

"They are heirs of worthy families," Raven shrugged, looking over at Clarke with a knowing smile. "And you're the one who's always saying how pointless the rivalries are. Why not take a step in the opposite direction and consider a nontraditional match?"

"I could imagine my father's face," Clarke laughed, glancing over at Jake as he stood with Abby talking to a few straggling guests. "His only daughter and heir engaged to a Green or a Blake; it'd probably give him a stroke."

"It's not like he could disown you," Raven smiled, finishing the last of her drink and setting the cup down. "So, you have many options in front of you. Any idea how to choose?"

"It should be one of the Pike boys," Clarke insisted, turning the thought over in her already muddled brain. "I couldn't marry Wells' cousins; that'd be too odd though having him as family would make me happy."

"You won't even consider Monty, Ron, or Bellamy?" Raven asked, eyeing her friend with a coy grin. "I think it would be most advantageous for you."

"Marrying into an enemy faction? What good could that possibly do for me or my family?"

"It wouldn't be easy but it is an option," Raven smirked, pulling her arm from around Clarke's shoulder and nudging her with her elbow. "If you're forced to choose from a catalog, why not view the entire thing?"

"What you suggest is suicidal," Clarke whispered, looking over her shoulder again, her parents speaking amongst themselves. The rest of the guests had left and only Raven and the cleanup crew remained.

"All great ideas are thought to be mad by smaller minds," Raven smirked. Clarke nudged her gently and then sat back up, leaning back on her palms.

"It is possible but the ramifications are serious. You're suggesting that the heiress to the Griffin family marry into the opposing faction," Clarke warned, feeling a bit insecure when she spoke about her eligibility. "Suggesting that the Griffin heirs take the name Green or Blake is madness and the end of a legacy."

"Easily overcome," she shrugged, leaning in to whisper. "It's only a name; you may have multiple sons and one could be chosen to bear the name Griffin when he comes of age."

"Like the Greens or Blakes will consent to that," Clarke laughed. "And one of my own sons growing up an outsider from the rest of his family is something I couldn't condone. I'd rather not birth children into the middle of a family war."

"And here I thought you were an optimist," Raven sighed, squeezing Clarke's arm. "Give it more thought. Both Pike brothers are eligible but there are others, rising families within your father's influence, that might prove better suit."

"Please tell me we can get together again soon," Clarke smiled, placing her hand over Raven's. "To really talk this over? I'd only trust you and Lexa with this kind of problem."

"Are you busy the day after tomorrow? I'm off work for some sort of briefing in the morning and then I'm free for the afternoon."

"I'll clear my schedule," she joked, hugging Raven to her tightly.

"I'll meet you here at noon," Raven assured, hugging Clarke to her. "We have so much more to consider."

Clarke sat holding Raven for a moment, her friend's familiar embrace calming her and steadying her blurry vision. She'd had far too much to drink and couldn't help but feel a little melancholy. She didn't want to part ways yet; it had been months since she'd enjoyed time with Raven and the girl was practically a sister.

"Come, escort me out," Raven smiled, standing with Clarke. Both girls walked arm and arm to the front door, whispering about what they would do when they finally got back together.

"I'll see you soon," Raven assured, letting go of Clarke's arm and turning to her. "Get some sleep; you've had a lot to drink."

Clarke only nodded as she bid her friend good night. She only retreated into the villa when Raven had disappeared from the stairs that lead down to the road. The atrium was silent now, workers cleaning up discarded cups and food, flowers and banners. Clarke was groggy but she wasn't quite tired. The events of the day were turning in her mind and she always overanalyzed.

She needed to choose a husband; the only problem was that there were too many factors. He had to have a strong personality with an equally strong will. She didn't want someone who could bend and be influenced by others. She also needed someone who, at the very least, appreciated her opinions about the future of Arkadia. There had to be more to this world than family rivalries and hiding behind Arkadian walls.

He also had to respect her choice of career. She would do the same for him but he had to understand that she had a passion for it. The thrill of holding someone's life in her hands, and helping those who would otherwise be helpless, fulfilled her. She also preferred that her husband be relatively age appropriate. She couldn't imagine marrying some middle-aged widower. Perhaps she was too picky but finding someone that she could form a connection with was important.

If she was to be saddled with him the rest of her life, and he were to be father to her children, she must approve of his personality. Clarke bristled at the idea of being bound to someone unappealing. She didn't know what she sought beyond a pleasant face and an honest personality; she should have been considering this choice years ago. Maybe Raven was right; there were a wide selection of suitors in Arkadia and Clarke had to consider them all.

Before she'd realized it, Clarke had wandered to her rooms, standing on her balcony that overlooked the gardens below. The cool night air raised goosebumps on her skin and she sighed, enjoying the view of the night sky. The city beyond the garden walls was still alight, the late-night stars twinkling like the lights of the city. She stood there awhile, contemplating every option, considering every suitor with precise analysis. She was unaware of her mother's gaze in her doorway, the grin on her face full of pride and love for her only daughter.

The morning after her father's party, Clarke woke later than usual, determined to make up the time with effort. She'd thought about her situation before bed and the first moment she woke up. She needed to decide and she couldn't do it without being well informed. So, after attending a late breakfast she opted to work on her day off. She was an organized person and enjoyed making lists to the extreme. She had lists all over her computer and in her daily planner; this situation was no different.

She compiled profiles for each potential suitor, including those that are enemies. Each profile she pulled from public record and school records, adding personal observations and comments. She also scored them on a scale of one to five in key areas such as physical attraction, career, and temperament. Though she denied the option of Wells being a solution, she wasn't going to insult him by leaving him from her list. She even thought that including him out of pity might be insulting as well so she made sure to be completely honest about him.

He had many fine qualities and she wouldn't dismiss them just because they were friends. Wells was an accomplished student and caught on quick to new concepts and ideas. He was also kind beyond measure; Clarke found that out at a young age on the playground when Wells helped her to the infirmary after a jungle-gym incident. It also didn't escape her notice that over their long years of friendship, he'd shed his once thin and wiry form and took on that of an attractive man. He'd grown taller, more stout, and his face more squared; he'd also developed muscles during his workouts. Wells was a runner and could often be seen running through the trails in Peacelings or along the city streets early in the morning. Clarke also knew that her friend had a soft spot for animals, especially horses.

Clarke could have added dozens of notes and comments on Wells profile but there were a few things that brought him down the list. He was never very bold and he always took his time to weigh out options. Clarke didn't think that was a bad thing but at the same time, she knew he'd never stand up to her if she were to present an argument. He almost didn't have a spine when it came to Clarke and he wasn't a very emotional person. He kept himself in check, always thinking and considering his reactions. Overall, he was a smart and nice guy but not an alpha male. He never once asserted himself as a leader; he was doing his internship at the embassy but he was more of a diplomat than a leader. He'd always question his own actions and Clarke found his indecision to be endearing but unfit for the man she would call husband. She also doubted she could see past his brotherly position; they'd been like that since they could walk and the thought of having his children felt wrong.

Clarke scrolled through the list again, looking at the names and pictures of potential candidates. The oldest Pike brother, Landell, was an ideal candidate as Raven suggested. She looked at his picture closely, examining the profile without bias. He was twenty-one, single, and was working with his father as the elected head of the farmer's guild. The Pike's had a large house within Arkadia but they also possessed four key estates throughout the countryside. Spanning over the fifty-mile radius surrounding Arkadia, his family owned a more of the land than any other ally. Landell had officially taken up residence at one of these estates and, as Clarke researched, found that he was loved by his tenants and fellow guild members.

His profile also featured his impressive record in the melee during the academy and at special tournaments. He wasn't undefeated like Bellamy Blake but he wasn't without his victories. Out of all twenty-three matches, he'd only lost four. Clarke also saw on his profile that he was a good student. He maintained decent marks on all his classes and since his graduation, has brokered many deals between the common farmers, traders, and manufacturers at the embassy. He even pushed for better tax and highway fines in the outlying areas to make the burden easier on the common people.

Clarke was quite impressed with his profile and wasn't expecting to be; he was smart, kind, bold, and enjoyed his profession. He was also a family oriented person; his two younger brothers and little sister were his sole concern, as far as Clarke could tell. The other eligible Pike brother wasn't a bad choice either. Arthur, as Raven said, was a military man. He'd entered the military corps as soon as he graduated academy, taking on his first mission only a year after.

He'd been quite successful in military campaigns considering he was only nineteen years old. He'd helped quell the riots along the Ice Nation and Trikru borders and he also serves as captain of the guard for his father's estates. He didn't have an impressive scholastic career like his brother but he often participated in melees and competition. Clarke knew him to be a bold man but she knew very little about his personality; she only knew that the younger brother was more physically attractive than the older. He was stationed at the northern army base as commander and Clarke was moderately impressed by the kind of effort that must have taken. He was the youngest commander in the military and the most decorated of his generation.

Her eyes roamed over the two profiles she pulled up next; both were Wells cousins. Lucas Chandler was Thelonious' sister's son. He was three years older than Clarke and always at odds with Wells. She wasn't too fond of Lucas simply because he was always trying to be the best. Anytime he would encounter Wells, Lucas would challenge him to a game of wits or simply state a fact that was unknown to his younger cousin. This left little to be admired when it regarded his personality. Nate Keller was also Wells' cousin and Clarke was immediately struck with how much like Wells he looked. He was taller, with broader shoulders and longer hair, but the smile reflected Wells'. Nate was Sarah Jaha's nephew by her only brother. They were placed well in the hierarchy of politics. Nate's father served as ambassador to Polis for almost six years before allowing his eldest son, now married with two kids, to take over. Nate, being the second born son and youngest of the three siblings, didn't have much expectation. His grades were decent in school, his competition record indicating he hadn't opted for a military or tournament career since he was in prep school.

Perhaps Nate wasn't as witty as his cousins but he still harbored great ideas and a passion for Arkadia, something Clarke could relate to. She hadn't realized she'd been scrolling through profiles now, skipping Monty Green and Jasper Jordon. She knew their personalities, their passions, and she also knew that both were mostly spoken for. Though there was no official announcement, Clarke could tell that Monty and Harper were more than just friends and young Kat Murphy had Jasper Jordon wrapped around her finger. The girl was young but Clarke knew that there was something more between them.

This lead Clarke to look at Jon Murphy's profile. She'd never spoken to Jon before. In school, he was a bit arrogant, pushy, and entirely too observant. He had a knack for pushing the right buttons for almost everyone he met. Clarke figured he got a kick out of catching people off guard and pressing them for a reaction; he seemed to be unexplainably entertained by their responses. His grades were unimpressive, average at best, and he had never really taken to a specific career.

He seemed to be the least likely candidate but Clarke couldn't rule him out. He had positive traits too. Clarke had seen the protective way he watched over Kat and the way he reacted when doing so. It was a fierce protection that made her curious; she wondered if he could show the same dedication to other people. He was obviously a family man, determined to help raise his sister after his mother died when they were only children. He wasn't cruel though; she'd seen him stick up for underdogs time and time again during their school days. He was a serious man as well; it had always seemed to Clarke that he understood the way things worked, the bigger picture. He was a realist and always expected the worst which made Clarke feel a slight twinge of pity. He was prepared, ready to question and take on the cruel reality of this world with a grin on his lips and a sarcastic remark to follow. Maybe this is what she needed; someone that could balance her optimism and hopeless idealism.

It was at this point that she heard a cough, turning from her computer to look at her mother. Clarke wasn't sure how long she'd been standing there but she had an amused smile on her face. Clarke expected her to be wrist deep in surgery this afternoon so seeing her home was a relief. She knew her mother would help her with this; she trusted her completely.

"Working hard on your days off, huh?" her mom asked, walking into the room and sitting on the cushioned bench at the end of Clarke's bed.

"I'm compiling profiles and lists of potential suitors," she smiled, seeing her mother's face light up. Abby had been planning a grand wedding since Clarke was ten. "If I'm being honest, I'm having some difficulty narrowing down the list. I don't suppose you'd like to help?"

"Lists, huh?" Abby asked, turning her entire body toward Clarke, looking at her computer. "You're definitely my daughter than. I use lists for everything."

"I'm trying to narrow it down to three viable candidates," Clarke said, motioning to her computer. "So far, there are nine."

"Nine?" her mother smiled, motioning for Clarke to continue.

"Yes, but I don't want you to freak out when I tell you that some of the candidates on the list are not a part of our circle," Clarke warned, her tone low. "I wanted to look at every potential suitor, not just the ones I know father approves of."

Her mother was silent a moment, observing Clarke before nodding and standing up, moving to sit right next to her at her computer desk. She had a soft smile on her face but she could tell her mother was bothered by something. Usually Abby didn't get this quiet unless she was working something out in her head.

"Are you mad?" Clarke asked, eyeing her mother cautiously. She didn't want Abby to think she was being stubborn or uncooperative.

"Not mad," she admitted, her voice quiet. "Just confused."

"How so?" Clarke asked, turning to fully look at her mother.

"First, tell me who the candidates are," her mother insisted, placing an arm around Clarke's waist with a smile. She could tell her mother wanted to work this out as they went and it would probably come to her further down the list.

Clarke pulled up the list for her mother, all ranked based on overall score. Her mother observed the list quietly, taking in each name before turning back to Clarke, an inquisitive look on her face. Clarke couldn't tell if it was a look of approval or disappointment. After a smile had spread across Abby's lips, Clarke pressed on, motioning for her to look at the profiles as she went down the list.

"Obviously, the top candidates are the Pike brothers," Clarke began. "Both have positives and negatives that I've addressed."

"Both are ideal matches," Abby smiled. "Your father would be content if you married into their family. The Pike's are more genuine and loyal than most families."

"There are also Wells' cousins, Lucas Chandler and Nate Keller," Clarke replied, opening their profiles. "Each are from good families and have ideal personalities."

"Lucas is a professor at the university," Abby smiled. "You'd never be at a loss for stimulating conversation."

"He always seemed boisterous and constantly trying to one-up Wells," Clarke commented, glancing up at her mother. "Maybe the sense of competition spurs him to be his best but if I'm going to marry someone, I want it to be someone our children can emulate. Emulating that kind of self-satisfaction isn't an appealing idea."

"Then why is he on the list?" Abby asked, looking her over.

"He's not entirely unappealing," Clarke shrugged. "Better than some."

"Is Wells on the list?" her mother asked, a coy grin on her face.

"Of course," she nodded, moving to his profile. "I wouldn't exclude him because we're friends. That would be cruel."

"He has many good features," Abby nodded, looking over his profile on the screen. "He's tempered but passionate when it comes to those he loves. His mother often comments on how dedicated he is to you."

"We've spoken briefly about it," Clarke replied, her eyes roaming over her best friend's picture. "Wells and I consider our relationship friendly, nothing more."

"But could you look past friendship, for more?" Abby asked, observing the notes Clarke put on the profile.

"He may be passionate but he's never once stood up to me," she shrugged. "He's kind but I can't see past brotherly affection yet. I also know that he's not much of an alpha male; he may love those close to him but he's just not bold enough for my taste."

"I think he'd be the most ideal match," her mother smiled, looking over his picture. "He's handsome, from a great family, he's smart, athletic, kind, and you've known each other since you were toddlers. It is far from unappealing, Clarke."

"That's why I included him on the list," she nodded. "I realize that we'd be a perfect match because we already understand one another but the love I feel for Wells isn't passion; it's familial."

"So, you want passion as well?" her mother smiled. "As did I at your age."

"You didn't feel that way about dad?"

"Oh, no, I did…" she grinned coyly. "I loved your father for quite a while."

"I wish I loved someone like that," Clarke sighed, frustrated with her own selfish wants. She knew she needed to do this and it wasn't really a problem. She'd accepted it but she just hated that she'd have to make such a decision before her father would support her for office.

"How do you know you can't?" Abby finally asked, looking at the computer and the picture of Wells. "So, you don't love Wells that way. Fine, pick someone else to try with. What about Nate Keller? Arthur and Landell Pike?"

"Nate is friendly, involved, and passionate about Arkadia's future," Clarke nodded, motioning at how he was towards the top of the list. "But he seems to be wearing a mask most of the time, like there is something more behind his actions."

"Mystery, passion…" her mother smirked. "So endeavor to discover what is there. Don't be coy; they all know by now that you are looking for a suitor."

"That is unhelpful," Clarke replied, looking a little weary. "Now they are all going to try and be attentive, pleasing, and just overall smug. It isn't a good idea to actively seek a suitor when everyone knows everyone's business."

"It also gives you an advantage," her mother smirked. "You can be yourself, be direct, and gauge reaction. You won't wear a mask and they will be forced to discard theirs. It's a perfect ploy to make your intentions, and your interests, clear."

"You have a point," Clark smiled, looking back at the screen. "And Arthur Pike is better looking than his brother but his personality leans towards military matters and a dangerous career. His brother, Landell, is the family figure and heir to his father's lands and seat in the council. It'd be indecent to seek the younger brother's hand when the older is more advantageous."

"Alright, so we've got Nate Keller and Landell Pike as the top of the list. Who have we not considered?"

"Well, since Wells, Lucas, and Arthur are out," Clarke said, closing their profiles. "That leaves a few minor up and coming families on the market."

"And the opposition?" Abby asked, her eyes a little weary from the impending subject.

"Well, I've got five main ones," she said, her voice low. "Some are more viable than others."

"Just tell me," she groaned, a half-amused grin on her face.

"The most likely are Ron McIntyre, nephew of Trey McIntyre," Clarke motioned, popping up a picture of the sandy blonde with slight freckles and green eyes. "And Jon Murphy," she pointed, bringing up the picture of the chestnut-haired boy with a pointed face and wide set blue eyes.

"Why are they most likely?" she questioned, looking between the two boys.

"Because they are minor families on the side of the opposition," Clarke stated, looking confused at her mother's question. "They are more likely to seek a match than a Green or Blake."

"The McIntyre's are a noble family, just as old as ours," she pointed. "And they're quite cautious about their legacy. It would be a smart match but an unlikely one. As far as I can tell, Ron the eldest male heir with the name McIntyre. Harper has chosen to be with Monty Green which, if I'm not mistaken, removes her and her children from inheriting the McIntyre name."

"What about Murphy?" Clarke asked, closing out Ron's profile.

"He's from a lower born family," she shrugged. "Noble but newly minted. Only during the civil war did they rise to prominence under the Blake family."

"I know their history," Clarke replied, feeling a bit irritated at the dismissal in her mother's voice. "I've taken this into account already but they could be easily swayed if given a good match. If I choose Jon, it'd be the highest-ranking match they've ever had."

"And what about Jon?" her mother asked, casting a knowing eye over her. "What does he have to recommend him?"

"He's not entirely unappealing," Clarke shrugged, looking back at the profile. "He's no student or career enthusiast. So far he's only joined the military guard, stationed here in Arkadia. He's not without skill, a great marksman, but he's definitely more of a family man."

"He's always seemed so detached," her mother questioned, looking over the boy's face. "But his mother's death weighed heavy on his shoulders. He was only ten years old when Yvette died and his six-year-old sister didn't understand any of it."

"That's why I think he's a promising candidate," Clarke shrugged. "Better than any of the others when it comes to family matters and politics. He seems to understand the way things work; a realist to balance my own brand of optimism."

"He's the most promising candidate?" her mother asked, looking back at the list. "The Green boy is out of the question as we both know. His mother has boasted many times of his relationship with Harper McIntyre."

"I knew that, just like I know Jasper Jordon would not make an ideal candidate," Clarke pointed at the name.

"No, definitely not," Abby said, shaking her head without hesitation. "So, that leaves Bellamy Blake."

"Mom," Clarke smiled, letting a laugh escape her lips. "I would never consider it. That's why he is at the bottom of the list."

Her mother sat there a moment, eyeing the profile Clarke had pulled up of the Blake boy. After a few moments of gazing through the notes and the statistics, she looked back at Clarke with a half-hearted grimace. "You're not seeing the bigger picture here, Clarke. Putting him at the bottom of the list is entirely unfair."

Clarke considered her mother, eyes wide and mind reeling. "I disagree," she insisted, remembering the smug man from last night. "Any children I have will take the name Blake. They would never allow me to give their own offspring the Griffin name; it would die out."

"Your father is an only child," her mother smiled, taking Clarke's hand. "And his father's sisters married into a branch of the Pike family and Keller family. I understand, better than anyone, that a Griffin male heir is needed."

Clarke bit her lip, looking at her knees. Her mother had probably gone through a lot of pressure and worry over having a male heir. She married into the family hoping to provide many male and female children. Clarke knew this; her mother had always wanted a large family.

"I'm sorry," Clarke sighed, shaking her head. "It's just so important to dad and to me. I'm hoping that when I do have children, I have many sons and daughters who can carry on the Griffin name in my place."

"The Blake family is known for their abundance of offspring," Abby pointed, eyeing Clarke thoughtfully. "I believe that there are currently five male heirs with the last name of Blake."

"Yes, Blake… not Green or McIntyre or Murphy," she responded, watching her mother's face closely. "Bellamy Blake would never allow me to name any of his children Griffin. This is the turning point for them, don't you see that?"

"I do," Abby responded, her voice firm. "I've known for a while now, ever since your father and I were unable to have another child. I've seen this coming for years and believe it or not, I've given it quite a lot of thought."

"So, you understand how I feel about this," Clarke reaffirmed, looking back at the picture of Bellamy. "This is my duty, my problem, and my path to take. I don't need Bellamy Blake to stand in my way any more than he already is."

"I wouldn't rob you of that," her mother assured, squeezing her hand again. The two women sat there a moment, looking at Bellamy's picture before sharing a glance. Abby then sighed, wrapping an arm around Clarke and pulling her into a hug. "So fine," Abby commented, pulling away. "We won't pursue that option then."

"It is an ideal match," Clarke grinned, trying to lighten the mood. "Great family, great academic and career record, physically attractive…"

"He is, isn't he?" her mother smiled, kissing her cheek as they both turned to the screen again. "He's got dimples in his cheeks and one in his chin; those freckles are adorable as well."

"His eyes are stunning," Clarke said, not realizing she'd been thinking it. Her mother only nodded, staring at the boy's dark brown eyes. Clarke thought the picture didn't do them justice; last night they were almost black when she had stared over her shoulder at him. They were so close she could see her own surprised reflection but hidden in their depths were flecks of the darkest green.

"So, yes or no to the Blake boy? Narrowing the list from nine to four is an impressive feat," her mother nodded. "A hard day's work really."

"Do you honestly have a plan for a potential Blake match?" Clarke asked, eyeing her doubtfully.

"I may have an idea but as you said before – you want romance and mystery and my plans couldn't even compare."

"We'll stop for today then," Clarke sighed, copying all four of the suitors' profiles into a folder and saving it to her computer. "I'll transfer the file to my handheld later. What are you doing home from work anyway?"

"The load was light today and they wanted to get the new interns more experience with staff and operations so I took the afternoon off," she smiled, standing from the computer desk. "Any other plans today besides choosing your future husband?" There was an amused grin on her face when Clarke smiled up at her.

"Not that I am aware," Clarke chuckled, watching the slow loading bar on her screen, the transfer taking longer than she anticipated. She turned from her screen then, looking up at her mother excitedly. "Want to go out? We can check out the market since it's trading day."

"I think that is a great idea," she nodded. "We can pick up what we need for dinner together." She then motioned for Clarke to get up, grinning at her outfit. She hadn't realized she'd been wearing her comfortably warm pajama pants and tunic until now.

* * *

"Ready to leave yet?" Bellamy asked, looking over at Monty.

"Let me just finish this last algorithm," Monty groaned, pushing Jasper away from his chair. The three of them had a late lunch plan at the barbeque place in the market and Bellamy and Jasper were becoming impatient. Waiting in Monty's lab at the A.R.F. was more than boring.

"What is so important anyway?" Jasper smiled, looking over Monty's shoulder.

"You wouldn't understand," Monty chuckled, typing away at the keyboard.

"In English than, Einstein," Jasper chuckled, leaning back against the end of the desk.

"I'm finishing the last update for the interlink system." Monty nodded. "Now we can send emails and notices via-hardwired computers more efficiently. It's been slow for months and I've finally figured out a way to reorganize the server."

"Nerd," Jasper grinned, standing up straight. "The real question is this; why, with all your techy skills, haven't you figured out a way to hack?"

Monty only scoffed, laughing at Jasper's question. "I know how to hack," Monty replied, looking over his shoulder. "I could hack any computer I wanted to but I'm a fan of privacy you psycho."

"Psycho?" Bellamy asked, looking at Jasper. "What kind of things are you looking for Jasper?"

"Come on," Jasper chuckled. "There's got to be some juicy conversation out there."

"Classified conversations," Bellamy retorted.

"Can you two not argue over me right now," Monty groaned. "Some moron is saving a file on their computer and I can't finish this last fucking update because their still active on the server. They've been on it almost two hours even though I sent out five emails in the past week that said the computers need to be shut off between 11 and 1."

"Is that the reason we aren't eating lunch?" Jasper asked, looking toward the screen with rage. He always got cranky when he was hungry and Monty only laughed at his frustration.

"Basically, I've been trying to manual override the system and shut it down from this end but it has to be someone important. I can't break through to their system," Monty sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "How did this person not see the memos and emails?"

"Some people just use handheld devices," Bellamy commented. "And getting emails on those is iffy at best."

"I'm going to try one last thing," Monty said, typing on the keyboard quickly. Jasper only sighed, walking over to the window of Monty's office and looking out. They were on the second story of the complex made up of the old Ark and it was amazing how large Arkadia stretched before them on this small hill. After a moment of Jasper mumbling about barbeque, Monty started laughing, the screen in front of him alight with pictures.

"What is that?" Jasper asked, edging closer to his desk again.

"The idiot that was using the computer was Clarke Griffin," Monty chuckled. "And you'll never believe was came up after I broke through to the system."

"Pictures?" Jasper asked, eyeing the screen over his shoulder. Bellamy only waited, standing impatiently near the window. He could hear his stomach growl. "Bell, you're going to want to see this."

"Oh yeah, he is," Monty almost cackled, the laughter racking his body. Bellamy immediately strode over, leaning down to look at the screen. He was baffled at first but after looking over each file, he realized what he was looking at.

"Is that…?" Jasper began but Bellamy cut him off, taking the mouse from Monty and scrolling over each of the four files.

"It's a suitors list, ranked from highest to lowest," Bellamy commented, not believing what he saw. The top name was Landell Pike, three years older than Bellamy, and one of the largest land owners in Arkadia. Bellamy recognized him from the matches at prep-school and in the arena. Next on the list was Nate Keller, the brother to the current Ambassador to Polis. He was from a political family and Bellamy had the joy of working side by side with him during his internship. Nate was passionate and stubborn but he was also a bit self-righteous and a poor loser.

Bellamy almost cringed at the next page; it was none other than Jon Murphy. The fact that Clarke Griffin was considering Murphy was almost impossible and once again, Bellamy felt that surge of jealousy inside of him. He hadn't failed to notice that each had been given special notes, rankings, and listings based on their qualities. What Bellamy didn't expect was to see his name at the very bottom of the list. His score, unlike the other three, was in the teens.

"Wow," Monty finally chimed, moving Bellamy away from the mouse. "Looks like you did not impress the princess last night."

"The fact that I'm on the list is good enough," Bellamy assured, looking at Jasper knowingly. Jasper just shot back a coy smirk before looking back at the page.

"Well, did you see the notes she put in? That's pretty amusing…" Bellamy couldn't resist glancing over Monty's shoulder again to see.

"Arrogant?" Bellamy scoffed, reading the list of negative traits. "Pessimistic, confrontational, untrustworthy? She's got Murphy on the list too! Why is he above me?"

"Look, you're also a Casanova," Monty chuckled, pointing at the name in quotations.

"And you're hot tempered," Jasper added, looking at the next word. "Dishonest, and boisterous too. Oh, she's got you pegged my friend."

"What are you talking about?" Bellamy bit, looking back at the page. "I'm not arrogant or dishonest!"

"Just those two, huh?" Monty asked, looking up at his friend with a wide smile.

"I'm not boisterous," Bellamy replied, a little too half-hearted. "No more than any of these other idiots."

"Look," Jasper motioned, trying to sooth Bellamy's wounded pride. "A list of positives."

"Smart, thoughtful, bold, attentive, attractive," Monty started listing off. "And she gave you a bonus for being a family-oriented guy."

"That's something!" Jasper encouraged, patting Bellamy on the shoulder with a fake pout. "You'll be alright; princess Clarke would never marry you anyway."

"Why not?" Bellamy asked, his pride for himself and his family rearing its head. "My family is just as old as hers, just as influential and rich…"

"I misspoke," Jasper smirked, looking toward the window now. "Could never, not would never."

"Then why put me on the list at all?" Bellamy laughed, turning from the computer.

"Probably as a kindness," Monty shrugged. "If she's considering Murphy than she has to consider all other bachelors too. She probably thinks it would be offensive not to include you."

"Oh, she's just full of pity, isn't she?" Bellamy chuckled, motioning at the computer. Monty closed it out, standing from his desk now and shutting it down.

"Come on, let's get some barbeque at the market. It's trade day," Monty motioned, opening his office door. "Who cares about the list? She won't pick you anyway."

Bellamy wasn't sure what had come over him but the idea of Murphy taking higher priority than him on a list of suitable bachelors had wounded his pride. He was supposed to be seducing this girl as part of his and his father's plan. If he could pull this off, the Griffin name would be no more. The Griffin heirs would bear the name Blake and the rivalry could be taken up by a weaker family like Pike or Jaha. This would level the playing field; ever since the civil war the Griffin's and their faction had always held the upper hand. The most wealth, the best jobs, and the larger militia were all in their hands. He didn't care if Clarke didn't like him or if she wasn't really considering him; he would seduce her no matter what it cost. Bellamy knew their history, knew the history of humanity, and understood that internal warfare could bring down entire civilizations. He wasn't going to let that happen to Arkadia; he wouldn't let their people die because he failed to seduce a teenage girl.

* * *

 **I am posting one more chapter on here today. I don't know if anyone noticed but I went back through an edited the rewritten versions (again). Hope you enjoyed. One more post with more information about the official publication date on Kindle Worlds!**


	4. Chapter 4: First Steps

**Thanks for all the views and here is another chapter for everyone. Over 23,000 views! That is so awesome. As you can see, I removed a lot of the chapters. This is the final chapter. I can only post a certain percentage free online so here it is. This chapter will show you, more than the previous chapters, how I've changed the plot and fine-tuned it. I hope you enjoyed reading the new chapters which I finished my final edits on today. The rewritten chapters 1-4 are longer, more in depth, and intriguing. I also wanted to add more fighting and more concrete plot foundation. Thanks again readers! I love you all so much!**

* * *

"I can hear your thoughts, Bellamy," Monty said, standing in the shade of the awning that hung over the barbeque vendor. It was busier than usual, market day happening only once every couple of weeks. Bellamy stood with a bowl in one hand, drink in another, his mind lost in plots and schemes.

"Leave the king to mull over his princess," Jasper joked, motioning for Monty to sit with him at one of the makeshift tables outside the stall. "He's just mad because he's not on the top of the list."

"He should be," Monty shrugged, taking a drink of the iced tea in his cup. "He's the most viable candidate."

"Maybe on our side of aisle," Jasper grinned. "But Landell Pike and Nate Keller are her only viable options. You'll see…"

"And Murphy of all people," Monty smirked. "I think we should tell him what we know."

"I can see his face now," Jasper nodded, taking a bite of the barbeque in his bowl. "Murphy's smug grin and laughing eyes would probably drive Bellamy even more crazy."

"I don't know why you're so bothered by this," Monty said, looking up at Bellamy who was still standing in the same spot. "It's not like you actually have a chance and you've never even mentioned her before all of this. What gives?"

"Bellamy's schemes aren't going as he planned," Jasper insisted, eating some more barbeque.

"What the hell are you two talking about?" Monty insisted, finishing the last of his own barbeque. "A scheme involving Clarke?"

"Would you two shut up," Bellamy growled, moving to sit across from them. He ate a piece of barbeque before looking up at Monty. "There are some plans that I've had to rethink."

"Such as?" Monty whispered, leaning in toward him with a curious smirk.

"My father and I worked out a pretty decent plan," Bellamy whispered, looking about them for anyone that might be listening before continuing in hushed tones. "I've made it clear that I'd consider a foreign bride and this will undoubtedly make Griffin and all his affiliation nervous. This, along with increasing my eligibility, will push them to consider a counter offer, maneuvering them exactly where we want. If I were to lay the groundwork for such a match, it would ensure that the Griffin name would die out. That their heirs would bear the name of another like Blake or, as it now stands, Murphy."

"But you don't trust Murphy's father to remain loyal to our side," Monty summed, understanding the problem instantly. "It would be the greatest match in their family's history."

"Murphy was not part of my plan," Bellamy confessed, feeling even more frustrated. "It would be a hard blow to lose such an influential family in the military sector to the Griffins."

"It's more than that," Monty assured, catching the bored look in Jasper's eyes. "The Murphy's have always been loyal to the Blake family. If that were to change, the Blake family and all their affiliation would look weak. We'd lose favor among the guilds, the grounder tribes, the commoners, and the military, something that will take an entire generation to fix."

"This is what bothers me," Bellamy nodded. "I have to be the one she chooses and I don't know how I am going to achieve it now. Before, I wasn't even contemplating giving her an option; her father would see it is the only match to be made and force her to accept."

"This is your true arena," Jasper finally interjected, a look of shock and outrage on his face. "You've never doubted your ability to seduce a woman before and now you're acting like it's impossible. What is the real problem here?"

"You saw the profile she made of me," Bellamy laughed, shaking his head. "This girl is crazy!"

"You're looking at this the entirely wrong way," Jasper smiled, finishing his barbeque. He finished his drink and turned to see Bellamy and Monty impatiently waiting. He only grinned half-heartedly, leaning in to whisper between them. "She's organized, something Bellamy is an extreme fan of. She's also witty, she likes Shakespeare, she's got nerves of steel, and she's inherently good. What more could you want? She's undoubtedly beautiful so what the hell is the problem?"

"You saw the profile, Jasper," Bellamy ground out. "She's smart, she knows that we'll all be trying to impress her."

"Except you," Monty says, his eyes wide with his new idea. "Everyone else will beg for her hand but you'll stay clear. She'll be flooded with suitors and faces, parties and inquiries over the next few weeks, perhaps months. Abstain and see yourself elevated in her mind; stand out amongst all the others."

"And if she drops me from the list entirely?" Bellamy asked, his eyes on the crowd moving about him. "We'll kill my chances if we don't do something to catch her attention."

"What's this we business?" Jasper asked, looking about the crowd. "Do you need help seducing a woman?"

"This isn't just any woman," Bellamy sighed, looking between Monty and Jasper. "Don't you understand that if I fail, your families fail as well?"

"I'm well aware," Monty nodded, his eyes hard and narrowed on Bellamy. "But your family will bear the brunt of it. We Greens are still popular amongst the guilds. Our harvests keep the trade and minting of coin possible; that's the cornerstone of our economy after all."

"This isn't a cock fight," Jasper groaned, seeing the heated words between his two friends.

"Let's talk this out like reasonable men," Bellamy insisted, looking Monty in the eye. He knew how to persuade his friend. "Say this does fail and we do take the hit from it. Our family will lose face and favor amongst the political elite. That means no more lobbying for tax exemptions on our iron and copper mines. Your smart so you'll understand the problem that arises; without a lower tax on our mine's property and trading we'll be forced to downsize or see our employees take a pay cut."

"And how does that affect us?" Monty asked, still unmoved. Jasper only sighed, leaning against the table and enjoying the sights and sounds of the market around them. He'd grown weary of their fight and sought distraction in the crowd of passersby.

"Our metal is formed into your tools, used on every one of your estates. What will you do when the Murphy's, who own almost all the forges, marry into the Griffin family?"

"Our deal with the Murphy's would stand as it is; we have an arrangement and a fixed price," Monty assured, his voice sharp and low.

"You expect them to hold to that agreement when their family equals your rank?" Bellamy grinned, looking about. "I didn't know you had such faith in Jon and his family."

"The McIntyres own just as many mines and quarries as you," Monty confirmed. "And we seek to maintain that friendship."

"True but your forgetting a crucial detail," Bellamy grinned. "We own the factories that create guns for the military. If we're forced to hike those prices many families will suffer and I'll be sure who to make suffer the most."

"You'd do that to a friend?" Monty asked, his eyes narrowed.

"You'd deny a friend your aid simply because you believe it impossible? Where is the friendship there?" Bellamy retorted, smiling at his friend. "I just need some more information and your skills will be most useful. If I'm going to seduce someone like Clarke, I need to know all the facts."

"You want me to hack into her personal data?" Monty whispered, his voice a mixture between disbelief and curiosity.

"I'll follow your strategy, keeping distance," Bellamy nodded. "But I'll know what she adds or removes from the profiles."

"You ask me to go against my better judgement and do something I swore I'd never do," Monty sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You strike a hard bargain Bellamy."

"You're the best in your field," Bellamy grinned, looking over his friends face in a knowing way. "And don't tell me it doesn't give you some sick satisfaction looking at Clarke Griffin's private notes. I know how much you despise their family."

"My great grandfather was killed by Jacob's grandfather during the wars," Monty ground out. "They're pompous, arrogant, and dishonest plots led to the death of four of my family members that fateful night. I won't give them a second chance to betray us."

"Animosity runs deep," Bellamy nodded, placing a hand on Monty's shoulder. "That is why I trust you to help me. You and I could be the generation that finally sees the Griffins to an end."

"You're cruel," Monty said, looking up at Bellamy thoughtfully. "This is a shrewd maneuver over all. What happens if you win her hand, or worse, her heart?"

"She'll be the future mother of my children," Bellamy smirked, looking over at Jasper who had become interested in the conversation again. "She'll be treated as a Blake, given every curtesy and honor the title implies."

"And if she ever finds out about these plots and schemes?" Monty questioned, his eyebrow raising in concern.

"She's pretty good with a scalpel," Jasper chimed, making a motion across his neck.

"Only we know about it," Bellamy whispered. "And I'd hope it stays that way."

"A pact then?" Jasper asked, looking between them with hopeful eyes. "We each have something to lose if this fails, so let's form a pact and put our three brilliant minds together on this fateful union."

"This is so wrong," Monty sighed, looking to Jasper. "I'm not entirely comfortable with this but there's nothing more I can do."

"Good," Bellamy nodded. "Now I just sit back and wait, keeping close eye on her every move. Maybe we'll figure out how to draw her attention when the time comes."

"We need a drink to celebrate!" Jasper smiled, motioning for them to get up and follow him. Bellamy couldn't stop the grin that crept over his face at the motley crew they'd assembled. It wasn't really a game that Bellamy should be playing, not now when he had so much more to worry about. His father had his own plans about Bellamy's future and if a match with Clarke doesn't become a possibility, Bellamy would be married off to a foreign bride.

Suddenly, someone came walking up to them under the awning, standing next to their table and blocking the midday sun. Bellamy looked up and spotted a clearly irritated Jon Murphy.

"So, Kat isn't with you," Jon huffed, looking down at Jasper. "She left the house for the market and I haven't found her yet."

"Is something wrong?" Jasper asked, his eyebrow quirked as a grin spread over his lips.

"You know exactly what is wrong you son-of-a- "

"You were more than welcome to come to the park with us last night," Jasper pointed, looking at Bellamy for support.

"Would you relax Jon," Bellamy sighed, motioning for him to sit down with them. "She's a big girl, she can take care of herself. Besides, it's Jasper. It's not like we don't know where he lives…"

"You're supposed to be on my side!" Jasper joked, making Monty smirk at him.

"I'm glad I found you guys though," Jon nodded, looking about. "I have some news."

"That's a first," Monty commented, looking up at him as he sat down.

"Well, as you know, I work in the military overseeing guard and army relations," Jon began, his voice low but quick. "And recently, the city guard has been requesting more and more reinforcements from the military. It seems that gang violence has become a bit out of hand in more recent months…"

"Your point being?" Monty asked, clearly uninterested.

"That there is a new turf war brewing," he smirked. "The gambling hall that the gangs run their business out of has been sold to another owner. There is unrest and uncertainty about who regulates the black market now."

"Why would the owner sell it?" Bellamy asked, his eyes wide. He knew that his own family had significant ties to their own underground businesses. The Blake henchmen had always sold illegal ammo and guns on the black market. To Bellamy, it was the best way to assure that their guns didn't fall in Azgeda hands.

"He lost it as part of a gambling debt," Jon smirked, waving for one of the workers to bring him a drink. "That's what my news is really about." A moment later someone came walking over with a glass of ale. Jon took it and downed half the cup before handing the girl a few copper coins. "Another," he ordered, waving her off. She disappeared and Jon looked about the table, pushing a lock of hair from his eyes.

"So, you're big news?" Bellamy urged, taking a sip of his own ale.

"I am the proud new owner of a gambling hall," Jon smirked, making Bellamy nearly gag on his drink. Monty looked dumbfounded but Jasper had a wide grin on his face, immediately clapping Jon on the back.

"And what do you want to do with a gambling hall?" Monty asked, a confused furrow to his brow.

"Well, I've never been a very public person," Jon started, shrugging his shoulders. "I figure, I work better from the shadows."

"I have no problem with this," Bellamy agreed, glancing at Monty before taking another drink of his ale. "It will actually benefit us all considering my own men run their little business out of that hall."

"That's another reason I am glad I found you," Jon admitted. "I need to know that I have your full support. The Griffin and Jaha boys aren't going to like the idea of me in charge."

"You're not exactly neutral," Jasper nodded.

"I am also going to be changing up the venue," Jon nodded. "It won't be some low brow bar and club anymore. I'm going to use my winnings to invest and turn it into Akradia's first ever casino and resort."

The table was silent a moment and then Jasper chuckled, shaking his head. "Downtown? In the worse part of town?"

"It won't be when I'm done with it," Jon retorted, looking at Bellamy. "I figure, we can have a legit front for our black-market dealings and it would revitalize some of the poorest districts in the city. Good for elections…"

"And you want my support in this as well?" Bellamy asked, a little skeptical.

"If we can open this new casino, have a benefit for the downtown district, and use the proceeds to upgrade the entire neighborhood, it will bring voters and money to all involved," Jon reasoned, watching Bellamy's face.

"I'll consider it," Bellamy offered, making Jon smirk. "But we're going to need a lot of money to overhaul that neighborhood. The plumbing and roads are as old as the city itself."

"I'm aware but you aren't involved with this situation as I am," Jon argued. "Every day down there is a bad day. Griffin and his men fight with yours and mine and in the end, the entire enterprise draws far too much attention. We need someone who can definitively control these gangs before the military becomes involved."

"It can't be all that bad…" Monty said, looking between his two friends.

"Would you like to see?" Jon asked, his eyebrow quirked knowingly at Monty. "You've never been to the downtown district, have you?"

"Sounds like an adventure," Jasper said, springing up. "What say we make our way to Jon's new gambling hall and find out for ourselves what the dark mysteries of downtown hold?"

"We should," Bellamy agreed, standing up. "I've never been there either and I want to see this gambling hall for myself."

"You guys are insane," Monty groaned, standing up and following the others as they weaved through the busy market day crowds. Once they'd walked up the central hill and out of the busy square, they took a left, going down the opposite side. There were decent middle-class homes here and apartment complexes that reached into the sky, most of them fragments of the old ark's compartments. As they reached the bottom of the hill a few minutes later, the buildings became more closely packed together, squat houses and storefronts covered in old plastic and metal roofs. The further they walked, the more unbelievable the little houses became.

There were squat huts, no bigger than Bellamy's own bedchamber, slumped together against the steep hillsides and crumbling old buildings. Stone, brick, and thatch seemed to line the rooftops as they walked, most people avoiding them altogether. Bellamy had never seen this before; he'd read about it and been told but never imagined the degree of degradation. There were children covered in grime and dirt, the smell of bile and urine wafting through the narrow streets and corridors between buildings. It was horrifying, men slumped over fences and cages, rooting on cockfights in back alleys, almost completely devoid of any other cares. There were women standing on street corners, most of them dressed in torn and skimpy clothes. Some called out, others just watched them walk by, the men in the doorways eyeing them with contempt. Bellamy couldn't believe that his fellow Arkadians lived like this; he could see where Jon's concern came from.

"This is awful," Bellamy said, following Jon down the narrow road, avoiding puddles and piles of trash. "How could it have gotten this bad?"

"There have always been the haves and the have-nots," Monty pointed, keeping his voice low. "What did you think it was going to look like?"

"Not like this," Bellamy snapped, glancing sideways at Monty. "This isn't how our people are supposed to live."

"It didn't used to be like this," Jon commented, motioning for them to follow him through an alley and onto the main street. The buildings around them were tall and the road wider. It seemed to be the only semi-decent road they'd walked down. There wasn't a car or a cart in sight and it gave Bellamy the chills. "Up until the civil war, this used to be a prosperous and historic district."

"And you're going to try and restore it?" Jasper asked, glancing about.

"I'm going to try and help, yes," Jon shrugged. "Don't get me wrong; it is because of the gangs, the violence, and the neglect that things are this way. I'm not aiming to clean it up, I'm aiming to organize it."

"This isn't a mob movie," Monty reasoned. "You can't just do these things. There is more to running the underground markets and gangs than money and popularity."

"I think I know a little more than you do, Monty," Jon said, nodding at the buildings around here. "I'm down her quite frequently, gambling away my inheritance as my father would put it."

"Yet, you've never been attacked," Monty pointed. "Why is that?"

"Most people know me around here…"

"Once they find out you're the new owner-"

"I own the whole corner building and a couple of crumbling apartments around it," Jon pointed, making them all look. Ahead of them on the widest intersection stood a tall, four story high, building with faded red plaster and a large arched entryway. It had a few smaller windows on the top floors but there were two large, rounded, windows above the name of the building. In big white letters stood the word "Starlight".

"How are you going to do any of this?" Jasper asked, looking over at him. "You're going to have to put a lot of your own money into a restoration project. Not to mention redoing all the plumbing and lighting for the place."

"I have the money," Jon nodded, a smirk on his face. "Bribes, gambling winnings, and the rest of my inheritance is all I need to restore this once important building to its former glory."

"That's all you have," Bellamy warned, looking over at his friend curiously. "You'd invest it all into this?"

"If it meant being able to run my own affairs and not having to go into public office," Jon nodded, watching Bellamy. "I know this will make me money. I'm asking, as a potential investor, if this would be something you're interested in?"

Before Bellamy could respond he felt someone grab his bicep and pull. He immediately spun, placing a hand on the person's wrist, the other going for the knife in his belt. The man was tall, older than Bellamy, with an angry face and two missing teeth. He smelled of booze and was glaring at Bellamy harshly. Bellamy was about to bring the knife up to the man's throat but he was quickly flung sideways, landing on his back. There were four other men with him and Jon already had his gun pulled, Jasper pulling a knife and Monty pointing a gun directly at the man who'd flung Bellamy.

"You're in the wrong part of town, Blake," the man said, glaring over Monty at Bellamy. "Unwise move…" The rest of the men smiled cynically, one of them drawing his own blade. They were armed with metal pipes, machetes, and maces, each of them looking no more pleasant than the next.

"I am free as any of you to walk the streets," Bellamy said, standing again and pulling his short sword.

"That was unwise Poullo," Jon said, his gun still poised. "You'd dare lay a hand on a member of the Blake family? Don't you and your boys have enough problems with the Blake men already?"

"Walk away now and we won't kill you," Bellamy offered, moving around Monty to stare at the man with missing teeth. "I gave you fair warning…"

"This isn't the arena boy," he retorted, lunging toward Bellamy. It wasn't even a challenge at this point. Bellamy didn't have time to think. Before Monty could fire a shot, Bellamy stepped in the way, his sword connecting with the man's shoulder, red blood spewing and spraying from the blade. He screamed in agony and it was then that Bellamy swung again, sinking his short sword through the gargling man's throat. The others lunged now, angrily swinging but it was Jon who interfered this time. He pulled his own short sword, cutting the arm from a larger man and then spinning to sink his knife into the howling man's chest.

It didn't take them long, the five men collapsing to the ground in twitching and steaming heaps of blood and waste. Jon and Bellamy had barely gotten touched, a strike just missing Bellamy as blood sprayed his tunic. Both he and Jon had blood splatter on their faces and hands but stood grinning at one another as if there were a joke that only they understood. It wasn't the afternoon Bellamy had planned but he now understood what Jon would be up against with or without his help.

"So," Bellamy said, pulling off his jacket and wiping his face and hands. "I think we can see what you're up against. I'll talk to my father and see what we can't do about a fundraising benefit."

"You two are incredible sometimes," Monty said, shaking his head. "You just cut down five guys and start talking about business and politics again like it's nothing."

"I say we get out of here before more of them pop out," Jasper suggested, looking over at Jon who had his handheld out.

"Shouldn't be too worried about that. I hit the alarm on my handheld," Jon smirked. "Sends out a mass S.O.S. with my location. Not a bad idea, right?"

"To who?" Monty asked, his interest peaked.

"My own men," Jon chuckled, wiping off his face and blade with his own jacket. "They should be here soon but I do think it's a good idea to start heading back to the market. We don't want to spark a gang war…"

"Didn't you say Kat was missing somewhere in the market?" Jasper asked, looking him over skeptically. "You should find her…"

"I'm still pissed at you Jasper," Jon said, putting away his handheld. "Don't think I've forgotten that you're trying to hook up with my little sister."

"You're so stubborn and stupid sometimes," Jasper groaned, following them as they made their way back up the road. "I'm not trying to hook up."

"Whatever you think you're trying to do isn't going to happen," Jon warned, glaring over at Jasper. "She's fourteen…"

"And I'm sixteen," Jasper spat, making Jon stiffen as they walked back up the narrow alley toward the market. "It isn't entirely inconceivable. Besides, it's not up to you."

"I swear it, Jasper," Jon warned, Bellamy grinning at their little argument. "I'll kill you."

* * *

"What about this?" Clarke asked, pulling a set of scrubs from the shelf. She and her mother, after getting a small snack at the baker's shop, were in their favorite clothing store. It wasn't because of their beautiful dresses or embroidered tunics and pants but because of their top-quality scrubs and uniforms. This shop provided all the necessary clothing for the hospital and their selection was larger than others in Arkadia.

"It's nice," Abby commented, moving around the end of the shelf and standing next to Clarke. "It's a darker color so the blood won't stand out but it's definitely plain."

"I'm not trying to impress people with my outfit while I'm working on a patient," Clarke insisted, a grin on her face. "Besides, I like charcoal gray. It's a bit plain but I think it suits my needs."

"Well, I've found this lovely forest green color," Abby insisted, holding up her own purchase. "And I found some new aprons. I grabbed one for you too."

"Perfect, I'll be ready for work when they recall me," Clarke smiled, adding one more of the charcoal scrubs to the pile draped over her arm. "Let's go before we spend all of our coin on scrubs."

"We do have a decent pile of clothing," her mother grinned, motioning between Clarke's arm of gray and black scrubs and her own dark, but colorful, choices. "Come, Sam and Ashur are waiting for us outside."

When they approached the counter, the shop owner greeted them with a broad smile, noting each of their purchases. He marked down the item number and color on a list before totaling up their expenses, his fingers working diligently on folding each item with care. "That'll be one gold, three silver, and sixteen copper," he smiled, putting the purchases in simple parchment bags.

"Here," Clarke insisted, handing him two gold pieces. The man's eyes went wide a moment and then he smiled, looking between the two women.

"This is far too much; you've overpaid…"

"Nonsense," Clarke smiled, grabbing her two bags. "We come here every month for new scrubs, aprons, and tunics and your products never disappoint. You deserve the extra for all of your hard work and kindness towards us."

"You are kind, Miss Griffin," he smiled, placing the two gold coins in his pocket. The older man's mustache twitched as he spoke; his grateful eyes finding hers. "If there is anything you may need from me in the future, anything that I do not already have made, I will gladly make it for you. Your business and that of your nurses and students keeps my family well fed."

"Just keep up the good work Mike," Abby smiled, squeezing his arm before turning from the counter. "Now, let's finish up here and pick something out for dinner. What do you think your father would want?"

Clarke followed her mother out of the small shop and into the wide streets. Market day was always busy and the bustle of carts, stalls, and people was overwhelming. People from the outlying farms and estates would come into town to sell their wares and even grounders, who'd come from many different clans, sold their specialty items.

"Sam, Ashur," Abby said, motioning for them to step closer. They were both taller men, hired by her father to accompany them whenever they set out among the common people. Clarke didn't think it entirely necessary but both of her parents insisted. With ten thousand people walking in and out of the shadows of the city streets, it wouldn't be smart to wander them alone, especially when your name is Griffin. "We'll be heading to the butcher and farmers market now. Stay close."

Both men simply nodded, following Clarke and Abby as they strolled arm-and-arm down the street. Some people moved aside for them, others too busy to pay attention. Clarke felt a bit embarrassed like this, walking down the street with two guards as if she herself paved them and owned them. She'd been used to the spotlight ever since she was small but being among the common people and flaunting her own position, her family name, felt wrong in so many ways.

"Don't look so shy," her mother insisted, squeezing her arm. "We're just enjoying a simple day at the market."

"Mom," Clarke whispered, moving through the crowds of people, some staring and some waving their merchandise about to catch interest. "We're practically a parade; do we seriously need these guards?"

"Absolutely," she replied, her determination clear. "You know why we need them and I won't argue with you here. Come, let's just go see the butcher and shop for some vegetables. I'm thinking we'll have suckling pig tonight with some potatoes and carrots. I'm sure the chef will come up with something if we pick up the ingredients."

"Do you even know how to cook?" Clarke asked, pulling her a little closer.

"No," her mother replied, looking sideways at Clarke as they moved around a corner and into the open square. Here, all the vendors were set up, some selling fish and eels, others selling fruits and vegetables. There was the smell of food all about them and Clarke immediately felt hungry, her eyes roaming over the beautiful late spring strawberries. Her mother noticed and smiled, stepping over to the vendor's stall.

As her mother decided how many strawberries she wanted for their dessert, Clarke turned toward the stall next to them. It was an herb vendor, their wares hanging from the rafters of the tent as girl separated and bagged others. The stall wasn't busy so Clarke stepped over to it, admiring the sweet but heady scent of the hanging lavender.

"They relax muscles," the vendor, a young red-headed girl, smiled. "Perfect for baths or in poultices to prevent bruising."

"They smell amazing," Clarke admitted, a smile on her face. She admired all the different herbs and flowers hanging in the stall but also admired the satchels and crates of spices. "Are these for cooking?"

"No," the girl smiled, reaching over and grabbing a satchel of something. "There are many herbs used for cooking like this pepper or the dried garlic and onion flakes. But a lot of the herbs here are for medicines and home remedies. I know much about them but my mother would know more, if you are looking for something specific. She should be back any moment."

"I'm just admiring all the different colors and smells," Clarke nodded, looking over the different spices and herbs. "Tell me, how much is some of this lavender?"

"For a small satchel," the girl said, pulling out a palm sized burlap bag with a simple twine around the top. "It is ten copper."

"Very reasonable," Clarke smiled, pulling the copper pieces from the leather satchel on her belt. "I'll take it." The girl smiled happily, taking the coins and handing Clarke the bag before turning to another customer that had popped up on the opposite side of the stall. She was about to rejoin her mother next to her at the fruit vendor when she spotted someone approaching.

"Clarke," the tall brunette said, her green eyes sparkling. "Fancy seeing you here." It was Kat Murphy, her young eyes alight as she approached Clarke. "I love this vendor; they sell the sweetest smelling strawberries."

"I noticed," Clarke smiled, seeing her mother's look over Kat's shoulder. "How are you today, Kat? I saw you and your brother leave last night but I didn't get a chance to say goodbye."

"I'm so sorry," Kat admitted, looking a bit sheepish. "I told Jon we should have said goodbye but I think he was a bit preoccupied."

"Hello," Abby said, moving to stand next to Clarke, her eyes looking over the young girl in front of them. "Kat Murphy, correct?"

"Yes Mrs. Griffin," Kat replied, looking over the two women. "I'm sorry if I interrupted your purchases; I spotted Clarke and wanted to tell her how much I enjoyed the masquerade and appreciated the invitation."

"We were honored to host you," Abby nodded, a soft smile on her lips. "Would you like to accompany us today?"

Clarke had to stop her eyes from widening and her jaw from dropping at the suggestion, smiling brightly at the girl in front of her. Her mother was so unpredictable and she knew exactly why she'd asked Kat to join them. She knew that Jon was on her list and this would give Clarke ample opportunity to learn more.

"Kat wouldn't be interested in accompanying us to the butcher," Clarke insisted, looking over at her mother with a knowing stare. "Why don't you and Sam go to the butcher and Kat, Ashur, and I will check out the farmer's market? You did say we needed vegetables for dinner."

"Excellent idea," her mother conceded, Clarke noticing her jaw tensing. "I'll meet you girls there as soon as I'm done. Ashur, stay close to them."

Before Clarke could say another word her mother had turned, walking down the road and through the crowd, Sam close on her heal. Clarke was about to turn back to Kat when the fruit vendor got her attention.

"Miss, the lady left her strawberries," he said, holding up a small box of them. "She already paid."

"I'm sorry," Clarke said, taking the berries from him. "They look delicious so I'll make sure she gets them." The vendor only nodded, a pleased smile on his face.

"So," Kat said, looking over at Ashur. "Who's this?"

"He's a guard my father hired," Clarke sighed, patting Ashur on the arm. He had tanned skin, short curly hair, and large muscles. "He insists we never go out without them."

"Smart man," Kat smiled. "I was supposed to meet my brother here but I've been avoiding him. So, he'll have to come find me because I'd much rather be in your company right now."

"You would?" Clarke was shocked, looking up at the young girl as they walked side by side toward the farmer's stalls.

"Sounds odd, doesn't it?" Kat asked, looking sideways at Clarke. She may have only been fourteen but she was at least three inches taller than Clarke. "The only daughter of the Murphy family enjoying the company of Clarke Griffin." She then had a wicked grin on her face, lacing her arm with Clarke's. "What do you think people will whisper about this little shopping trip?"

Clarke couldn't help but grin, looking back at the girl with curious interest. "What will they say?" Clarke smiled, walking past a group of teens she recognized from the arena and her party. They were minor families, the curtesy extended only out of duty, and she watched as they whispered amongst themselves, looking at the two girls as they walked down the street.

"They probably think we're conspiring," Kat grinned, glancing at the girls as they passed. "But what would we conspire about?"

"We could conspire to become friends," Clarke suggested, enjoying the girl's company. Out of all the teens she'd seen and talked to last night, Kat was most memorable. She didn't treat Clarke like she was some sort of child and she didn't hide her meanings behind clever words or tricks. She was a straight forward person and Clarke admired that about her. It also didn't slip her mind that her brother was on that fateful list she'd spent all morning working on.

"What a scandal," she fake-gasped, smirking as the people's eyes about them watched, covertly looking away and pretending to talk to their colleagues. "We've already grabbed their attention… why not see them to satisfaction?"

"So, tell me how you really feel about me," Clarke pushed, smirking up at the girl as they approached a farmer's stall. Clarke lazily looked over the corn, picking some up and inspecting it as Kat spoke, her voice low but confident.

"My parents tell me that you and your family are quite powerful, influential, and rich," Kat began. "Older, more noble than our family and the enemy of our allies, the Blake's."

"I know our family history," Clarke grinned, setting down the corn and picking up a cabbage, playing with the loose leaves. "I was hoping for a more personal opinion."

"I think you are smart, brave, kind, and funny," Kat admitted, looking over the vegetables in front of her. "But I also think you know how to play the game and I'm newly educated in its rules."

"There is a game," Clarke admitted, setting down the cabbage and walking along to the next stall. "But I play by my own rules."

Kat just grinned, leaning over to look at the zucchini and cucumbers before looking back at Clarke. "So, what are your rules?"

"I don't believe in this infighting and backstabbing," Clarke whispered, grabbing a cucumber and inspecting it closely. "And I don't intend on letting an old grudge ruin the future of our growing nation. I'm only playing their game until I can rewrite the rules."

"You want to find middle ground?" Kat asked, turning from the stand and looking over the crowd, casually leaning towards Clarke. "Peace between families?"

"We're all powerful and influential," Clarke said, leaning closer to Kat. "Why not combine all that power and influence to make lives better for all our people? Look around you; there are thousands living in this city, most of them poor. Do you think they'll remain loyal or peaceful for much longer if their conditions don't improve?"

Kat stood there a moment, pondering Clarke's words before a smirk spread across her face, a mirror image of her brother's familiar crooked smile. "You've got my attention," Kat nodded, placing her arm through Clarke's. "But you have to understand something. I have very little influence in my family so this conversation may lead us nowhere."

"Knowing that you're like-minded is help enough," Clarke smiled, pulling her from the stall and toward one of grander buildings framing the square. It was the Arkadian Guild Hall and its wide stairs and pillars provided a private area for them to speak. They found a spot away from the crowd around the stalls, taking shade under the stone and wooden roof. "I may need your help in the future," Clarke smiled, turning to the younger girl. "But I would never play with your life or freewill; I think you should understand that. Some of these old families and politicians like to gamble with other people's lives but I will not be one of them."

"We gamble with people's lives every day," Kat laughed, looking about. "How many eyes were on us today? How many people will come up with wild rumors based on our friendship and how many people is that going to hurt when the factions become restless? You gamble with lives every breath you take, even more so than I. Are you really that naïve or are you just playing a part?"

"Do you know how many murders this city sees every year?" Clarke asked, her voice tight as she looked up at Kat. Kat only shook her head, the look of confusion etched into her brow. "Last year we lost 383 people to gang or faction violence. The year before that was 421 dead. The year before that was 436 and before that 444… we lose four percent of our population every year to this infighting and violence. And you asked if I am naïve?"

"I understand how that upsets you," Kat whispered, glancing around as Ashur stood close by, watching the crowd attentively. "You're a doctor; you see firsthand the horrible things people will do to one another. I know you want to help and I would like to help you do that but the problems here are larger than you imagine. People are sorely divided on key issues within our society; you cannot overcome that with peace or kindness. It's just not possible to keep your hands clean in our position."

"I will not take lives by using devious methods," Clarke hissed, looking about them. "I will not harm the innocent, either. These differences could be overcome if the families that began the rivalry sat down with some open dialog between them, much like we are doing now."

"Is this what you call it? Open dialog?" Kat grinned, crossing her arms.

"I call it honesty," Clarke replied, looping her arm through Kat's. "So, should we be friends or enemies? I'd hate to think that I just revealed such intimate details to an enemy."

"If I were to agree," Kat said, a smirk on her face. "Could you guarantee that my family will be consulted? Can you guarantee that we'll benefit just as much as everyone else?"

"I can't guarantee anything until our families speak to one another," Clarke said, looking back over at the market. "I can imagine that each family will want something in return. After all, this entire game is a ladder and my only benefit is being at the top of that ladder. However, there is only one direction to go from there."

"My family's position, under the Blake's, is a precarious one," Kat admitted, her eyes following Clarke's as she watched the people in the market. "We owe our elevation, and our status, to them. They've made us strong and influential to benefit their own family and that doesn't quite put us on the same level."

"So, that's what you want?" Clarke asked, eyeing her closely. "More power?"

"It's not me that wants it," Kat sighed, shaking her head. "My father is a proud man. He doesn't accept charity and he does things for himself. He also doesn't approve of Jasper. It's not because Jasper isn't a good person, although my father and brother would disagree either way…"

"Why doesn't he approve? Jasper's family is wealthy and rising in influence," Clarke questioned, feeling a bit of sympathy for Kat.

"He wants to make a better match for me," Kat sighed, the disgust and annoyance in her voice overshadowing the fear Clarke knew she was feeling. It was the same fear she was experiencing only Kat was much younger. "He believes that a match with Bellamy or Ron McIntyre is entirely possible. Of course, there are also Bellamy's cousins he is eyeing for a match as well."

"I know how you feel," Clarke replied, smiling up at the girl. "I'm in the same position. My father insists on finding me a good match before he supports me for office. That includes council meetings and everything that entails. He insists I marry someone influential as well. Someone with many male heirs so that, as part of the agreement, my children can be named Griffin."

"I'm glad I don't have to worry about that," Kat admitted, a blush on her cheeks. "I don't mean to sound rude but your situation sounds worse than mine. What is it with our fathers and the need for more power? Don't they take love into account when it comes to their teenage daughters?"

"I don't think they have a choice," Clarke sighed. Both girls stood there now, contemplating Clarke's words. It wasn't cruel to say that they didn't care because, with all the cares they have, love is the least important. Collectively, they held thousands of lives in their hands, maybe even more if the coalition was considered.

"You're quite shrewd," Kat grinned, running her thumb over her jaw, looking at Clarke thoughtfully. The look in Kat's eyes bordered on admiration but Clarke only hoped she wouldn't betray her trust. It was well known that Clarke played by her own rules, she just wasn't ready for others to start playing too. "I think this is a beautiful start to a productive and loving friendship," Kat assured, taking Clarke's hand. "I see your mind in this and understand what you want for the future of Arkadia; my thoughts on the matter are the same as yours. This rivalry is a waste of time and energy best used elsewhere."

Clarke took her hand, pulling her in for a tight hug. The girls laughed together at that, realizing that for the first time, in a long time, their families had a link. When Kat pulled away she took Clarke's hand, leading her back toward the market. "Then let's be friends and enjoy all the fun that market day presents," she insisted, a dazzling smile on her lips.

"My mother might be looking for me," Clarke smirked. "So, we'll have to face that soon. She'll probably insist I go home with her."

"I might be interrupted as well," Kat grinned. "My brother was not pleased with me last night or this morning so he may _try_ to insist that I go home as well."

"What's he displeased about?" Clarke asked, wondering if she could get any more information about Jon through his sister. She didn't want to outright ask about him, revealing her intentions. Then again, she didn't want to start out a newly formed friendship by stealing information from her either.

"I snuck out after the party last night," Kat admitted. "Jasper and I went to Peacelings together."

"Jon is your older brother," Clarke smiled, feeling a bit of sympathy for Jon. If she had a little sister, she'd keep her under lock and key. "He only wants to protect you."

"He thinks Jasper a drunken pervert with no regard for me or my reputation," Kat mimicked in a low voice, leaning in. "But he has genuine feelings for me. I may not be of age yet but when I am, Jasper and I plan to elope."

"You'd share that with me?" Clarke asked, looking the girl over. "Isn't that a pretty big deal? I mean, your father might have other plans…"

"Father thinks the Bellamy will ask for my hand instead," Kat groaned. "He insists that I'm one of the only eligible candidates."

"Why would he be worrying about you so early?" Clarke questioned, strolling around the stalls and aimlessly looking over their wares. Ashur was close behind, always ready to interfere if needed. "Surely your brother's match is more important than yours right now?"

"Very," Kat said, rolling her eyes. "But his options are slim. Harper has a couple of cousins and Monty has only one unwed cousin and she's already got kids. There's also Bellamy's younger sister but she's only ten."

"He doesn't have a preference, then?" Clarke asked, stopping at a stall that sold fresh fruit. She realized she was a little hungry and ate a strawberry from the box in her shopping bag, offering one to Kat. Kat took one and together they kept walking, back up the street toward the food vendors. The smell of barbeque and smoked meats filled the air. They found themselves a bench near one of the fountains, sitting together closely as Ashur stood watch.

"He hasn't really shown any interest in any one girl," Kat shrugged, continuing their conversation. "He's escorted some hopefuls to parties and made appearances but he's not really taken interest. Father has been pressuring him since his birthday almost eight months ago, but so far he's done what he's always done."

Clarke listened attentively, curious about the boy she's put on her list. She wanted to know more about him and she was seeing him through Kat's eyes, making it an even more intriguing vision. Kat just shrugged, eating another strawberry before looking back at Clarke.

"Sometimes I think he just wants out of it all," Kat smiled, her eyes far off thinking of some distant memory she and her brother shared.

"He and I are alike in some respects," Clarke smiled, eating another strawberry. "I would give anything to just be a doctor, without all the hassle of family obligations."

"You're considering suitors, right?" Kat asked, a playful look in her eyes. Clarke wasn't expecting that.

"I have a list," she smiled, looking at the crowds of people passing by. "Some options are more viable than others."

"And who might be on that list?" Kat asked, the smile on her face broadening. "Can I guess? We can make it a game…"

"A game between friends?" Clarke asked, eying the girl fondly.

"What other game is there?"

"Very well," Clarke nodded. "There are four names at the top of the long list of eligible bachelors in Arkadia. Take a guess…"

"For Clarke Griffin there can be only the best," Kat commented, thinking about the possibilities. "But, you already said Wells was just a friend so guessing him wouldn't really be helpful."

"That's right," Clarke nodded, looking at the fountain, the trickling water somewhat soothing.

"So, that leaves the Pike family," Kat reasoned. "Landell is at the top, right?"

"Yes, I thought it improper to approach his younger brother when Landell isn't spoken for."

"He's not a bad match at all," Kat nodded. "But who else could be on the list… Wells has a few eligible cousins…"

"Do you have a guess?"

"I honestly don't know their names," she admitted, looking a bit sheepish.

"That's alright," Clarke chuckled. "But you did get it right; Nate Keller is Wells cousin and his brother is the foreign ambassador to Polis."

"Oh! I do know him," Kat chuckled. "He and my brother play cards together sometimes. He's always kind, maybe a bit eccentric though…"

"Two more names…" Clarke pointed, watching the curious shoppers pass by, some of them glancing in their direction.

"I know there are a few minor families you could consider," Kat reasoned. "The Kane family has several male options as well as the Miller…"

"I'll give you another hint," Clarke smirked, looking directly into Kat's bright blue eyes. "I'm considering broadening the spectrum to encompass all the families in Arkadia."

Kat's eyes went wide for a brief moment and then she smirked, shaking her head in silent awe. "I think I understand," she commented. "But at the risk of sounding mad, are you seriously contemplating someone from our side?"

"A couple, actually…"

"Bellamy Blake is the most eligible bachelor but would you really consider such a match?"

"One name left," Clarke smirked, pretending not to notice Kat's dumfounded expression.

"Monty and Harper are practically married, even though their engagement hasn't been announced…"

"Not Monty," Clarke laughed, shaking her head. "I know he and Harper are together and I would never get in the way of that."

"Then who else could it be? There are minor families like the Marshalls, Kururugi, and Freeman but that kind of alliance wouldn't really benefit your family."

"I'm sure you'll figure it out in time," Clarke chuckled, shutting down Kat's questioning look with a shake of her head. "But I'm hoping that I can trust you with this information. I admit, there isn't much you could do to interfere but I want to ask you, as a friend, to not stand in my way."

"I'm mostly stunned by the idea of a Griffin and a Blake alliance," Kat admitted. "And I've told you all about my plans with Jasper. If I didn't trust you or want to befriend you, I wouldn't have told you. Your secrets are safe with me, Clarke."

"Thank you," Clarke grinned, feeling a blush come over her cheek.

"So, tell me what you do for fun," Kat insisted, looking out over the square where everyone was shopping and enjoying the fresh food from the vendors. "I already know you're a doctor and excellent party host. What else should I know about you?"

"I draw," Clarke smiled, thinking of the sketch book and pencils her father bought her for her thirteenth birthday. "I like doing landscapes but I'm also fond of portraits too."

"You must show me one day," Kat insisted, an excited twinkle in her eyes. "I wish I could draw. I have no skill for it."

"I hear your skill is in combat," Clarke grinned. "Do you plan on competing in the games?"

"Maybe one day," Kat nodded, her jaw set in determination. "I'd really like to join the Embassy Guard when I'm old enough."

"A tough job to get," Clarke admitted, looking at Kat. "I was told you and Harper train together a lot and she's a great marksman."

"She's taught me everything I know," Kat smiled. "I'm starting to learn the melee as well. Jon volunteered to help me when I was ready."

"I didn't know he was skilled in the melee," Clarke said, her eyes wide. "I thought he was more of a military careerist."

"He's found a niche," Kat assured. "But he's always been skilled with the melee. He and Bellamy have been sparring partners and friends since they were children."

"I wouldn't have guessed," Clarke admitted, feeling a little disappointed.

"He's not as good as Bellamy but he's definitely skilled," Kat nodded, turning toward the fountain. "I think he's too independent to put himself in a box like that. Melee fighter, military lieutenant, eligible bachelor… he just doesn't cage himself with labels."

"If only I could do that," Clarke laughed, looking at the fountain.

"He takes on the weight of the world sometimes," Kat replied with a soft smile, turning back to Clarke. "Something else I think you two have in common."

Before Clarke could reply, Ashur had stepped in front of her, facing someone who had approached. She was about to lean around him and see who it was when Kat jumped up, stepping around Ashur quickly.

"It's alright, he's my brother," Kat assured, placing a hand on Ashur's shoulder. He looked over his shoulder at Clarke for confirmation and she nodded, making him step aside.

There, standing in simple black slacks, a long maroon tunic, and a leather strap that held his blade on his back was Jon Murphy. His hair was a little wild and his boots muddy but he looked as if he was about to explode. It was only when he spotted Clarke that he regained his composure, looking between the two women dumbfounded.

"Jon, you know Clarke…" Kat drawled, looking at her brother curiously.

"Right, I'm sorry…" Jon replied, extending his hand. Clarke took it and he leaned down, kissing her cheek, as was the formal greeting expected. "I've been looking for my sister and to my surprise, she's taking and laughing with Clarke Griffin. Hell must have frozen over without me noticing."

"I thought I felt a chill," Clarke smirked, standing up from the bench, her bag in hand. "I didn't get to welcome you at last night's party; I want to apologize."

"No need for the formality," Jon smiled, shaking his head. "I was a bit preoccupied anyway." Now he was looking at Kat, a sheepish grin on her face. Clarke never noticed it but Jon stood another couple inches taller than his sister, making Clarke feel even smaller than she already did.

"I've heard," Clarke continued, grinning at Kat. "I told her you were just protecting her but I see she's stubborn like the rest of your family."

"Us?" Jon laughed, looking at Kat. "I see you've made a new friend; an unexpected friend."

"Clarke and I have been talking about many things," Kat smirked, looking back at Clarke.

"I am just relieved to find my sister in the company of someone other than Jasper Jordon," Jon whispered, looking about them. "Have you spoken with him today?"

"Stop it," Kat groaned, rolling her eyes at her brother. "I haven't seen him since you chased him off last night at the park."

"Good," Jon smiled, looking at Clarke. "So, what's up with the body guard?"

"My parents insist," she replied, motioning to Ashur. "He's the best though; never once had a reason to doubt him."

"A good choice," Jon nodded, looking over Ashur. He then turned back to Clarke, noticing the way she and Kat were looking at one another. "I sense a conspiracy here," he commented, looking between them. "What were you really talking about?"

"If you must know," Kat teased, moving to sit down next to Clarke, who'd retaken her position on the bench. "We were talking about suitors."

"You two?" he asked, his eyes narrowed. "Kat Murphy and Clarke Griffin were talking about their suitors like a couple of school girls?"

"Not just ours," Kat retorted, making Clarke blush slightly, something she hoped Jon wouldn't see. Thankfully, Jon was blushing himself, looking away from the two with an amused grin on his lips. Clarke was thankful for the boy's own modesty and quickly composed herself.

"So, what have you ladies come up with then? What lady is condemned to a future with Jon Murphy?" His grin was cheeky and his tone light but Clarke could see something serious behind his eyes.

"We've not really hashed out any names or details," Kat laughed, trying to lighten the conversation. "We were just talking about suitors in general."

"Your suitors are a general concern," Jon smiled, leaning on the fountains edge. "I've told you that Jasper isn't a good idea. Perhaps an older woman can talk some sense into you." He motioned to Clarke, smiling hopefully at her.

"I wouldn't be much help," Clarke admitted quickly, shaking her head. "I don't have much experience with suitors and I think arranged marriages are far from loving."

"That is my point," Kat insisted, glaring at her brother. "I don't want some arranged ceremony and political alliance. I only want to follow my heart."

"And if your heart is wrong?" he asked, looking her over. "Do you know it so well?"

"Of course, I do!" Kat said, the argument becoming a little heated.

"The heart is a powerful but dangerous weapon," Clarke chimed in, her eyes darting between the two of them. "Take it from a doctor; once it breaks, it will never be the same."

"Speaking from personal experience?" Jon asked, looking down at Clarke with interest.

"No, just what I've seen," she replied, feeling a bit sheepish for interrupting them. Jon must have noticed because he started chuckling, standing back up straight again. "Sorry for the heated words. We're a pretty honest family so when we are at odds, it really hits the fan."

"No need for an apology," Clarke insisted, a smile on her lips. "You are both right, you just can't see eye-to-eye yet."

"Always the peacemaker," came a voice and they all looked up to see Abby approaching, Sam close behind. Abby took in the group of teens, smiling softly before offering her hand to Jon. He took it gently and mirrored the greeting from earlier, brushing her cheek gently.

"Mrs. Griffin," he said, a smile on his face.

"My daughter has always been a successful peacemaker," Abby smiled, taking Clarke's arm and hooking it with hers. "I'm glad to see you both again but Clarke and I must get home. My husband will be expecting us."

"It was nice seeing you again Mrs. Griffin," Jon smiled, moving aside for them to leave. "You too, Clarke."

Clarke smiled at them as she left, giving Kat a knowing look. She only nodded with a smirk, a chuckle escaping her lips as Abby Griffin did exactly what Clarke said she'd do. It was when they were far enough away that Abby's onslaught began. Clarke endured it the whole way home, listening to her mother's tedious worries and concerns about what might be said of their familiarity with the Murphy children. Clarke just nodded and whispered her agreement as they approached their villa; all she wanted to do was go back to her room and add a few notes to Jon's profile.

* * *

 **Thanks for viewing. Look for the full release on Amazon and Kindle Worlds. I hope you enjoyed it and I can't wait for you to see where this story is going to go. The title will remain the same and I even have an illustrator to custom design the cover. So keep an eye out between Aug. 18, 2017 - Aug. 26, 2017!**


	5. Chapter 5: The Long Game

**Greetings! Since Amazon's site has went down, I thought I would release the entirety of this book on here for free. I do hope you enjoy! I'll be putting book 2 on here as well! Sequels are nice. Please, R &R and enjoy. **

* * *

Bellamy sat, feet up, enjoying an old book in his chambers. He was a simple guy and his chambers weren't a reflection of that simplicity. The windows were large, paned in opaque glass with long linen curtains of dark blue. The walls of the rooms were covered with shelves of books, scrolls, trinkets, and inventions. There were prototypes of all sorts of guns and weapons but also tech devices Monty had designed.

The plush furniture was covered in feather cushions and furs, the bed large and inviting. Bellamy, however, sat at his handsomely carved desk, legs up, reading an old copy of _The Mysterious Island_ by Jules Verne. It was as sci-fi and mystery work that was quite underappreciated and Bellamy was just finishing the last chapter. It wasn't until someone knocked on his door, the sound echoing over the room, that he stopped reading, barely a page away from the end.

"Come!" Bellamy yelled, setting the book down slowly, an irritated furrow on his brow. The door swung open and in walked Octavia, a smile on her face.

"You have guests," she laughed, jumping onto his large bed and bouncing up and down. "They're on the way up."

"Who is it?" Bellamy asked, standing from his desk and moving toward the balcony, the cool spring breeze wafting the curtains about the door.

"Monty and Jasper," she laughed, her playful smile full of mischief. "We're supposed to be hanging out tonight, you promised."

"I didn't expect them to come over," Bellamy smiled back, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. "And I don't have any other plans tonight, O. Just you and me."

"I want to go to the park," she smiled, jumping on the bed again. "And we can catch fireflies when it gets dark."

"Sounds like a good plan," Bellamy grinned at her, motioning her to come sit next to him. "But I need to talk to Jasper and Monty first. Maybe, if your persuasive enough, you can convince them to catch fireflies with us too."

"I just want to spend time with you," she pouted, sitting next to him. "You're always so busy with friends and father."

"I wish I wasn't," he confessed, putting an arm around her small shoulders. "But I've got a lot of responsibilities, O. Our family is counting on me; just like you are counting on me. I can't let you or them down."

"I know," she groaned, looking up at him with her sad green eyes. "I just wish you weren't away all the time."

Bellamy pulled Octavia into a hug, a soft sigh escaping his lips. His little sister was more important than any other person in the world and Bellamy felt guilty leaving her to play alone. They'd been growing apart the past four years and now, the little girl he once adored, was growing into a young lady. He hated missing all that time with her and wondered if she'd borne the brunt of it.

"I'm sorry," Bellamy sighed, kissing the top of her head. "I promise I'll try harder to spend more time with you."

She only nodded, leaning into his hug, wrapping her small arms around his neck. They sat together like that for a moment, Octavia whispering about her day at the academy, not yet old enough to attend prep-school. She was telling him about a particularly cute boy when Jasper came into the room, a smile on his face.

"Ah, both Blake siblings," Jasper chuckled, waving at Octavia. She smiled and blushed, turning from Bellamy and standing up.

"Hello Jasper, Monty," she waved, holding out her hand for them. They greeted her formally and she giggled at them, seeing them as her brothers just like Bellamy. "Don't stay too long, we have plans," Octavia said before she left, waving at them dismissively.

"So," Bellamy sighed, a smile on his face at how his sister behaved. Bellamy noticed Jasper's chuckle as he stood from the bed and moved back toward the desk. "What brings you two here?"

"Monty has some more interesting goodies," Jasper grinned, plopping down on one of the comfortably plush benches. "New notes on a very interesting profile."

Monty had shut the door behind Octavia and was moving to stand across from Jasper, motioning for Bellamy to sit. "A very interesting profile," he agreed, standing across from Jasper and pulling out his handheld. "I've downloaded the profiles on here so if I need to destroy it, it's a lot easier."

"So, what have you found?" Bellamy asked, sitting on the edge of his desk and looking between them.

"She updated some notes on Murphy's profile earlier," Monty grinned, pushing some buttons on the screen. Monty then pulled a cable from the handheld and moved toward the desk, plugging it into the screen. He turned the screen toward them, setting the handheld on the desk next to it. There, glowing on the thin display, was Murphy's profile. Bellamy looked over it quickly, realizing Clarke had added almost an entire paragraph under the notes.

"It's quite surprising," Monty admitted, pulling up the notes so they could read them. "I mean; how does she see this in Murphy?"

Bellamy read over the notes, the annoyance in his chest rising with every sentence. He couldn't believe that he'd been outclassed and put aside for Jon Murphy. He knew why she did it, he knew why she was taking a match with Jon more seriously than his but it stirred something in Bellamy that gnawed at his pride. It was so frustrating but he read the note again, analyzing every word.

 _NOTE: Sister is pleasant, his devotion to her appealing. Temperament is also appealing; seems to be more thoughtful than perceived and is humorous. Mysterious and independent. Mirrors sentiments toward classicism. Least likely to be unfaithful._

"She thinks Murphy is an optimist like her?" Monty asked, watching Bellamy read it a second time. "And that he's likely to be faithful? I think she truly is crazy."

"Where would she get this impression?" Jasper asked, laughing at Monty's confused reaction.

"I'm not sure," Monty scoffed, looking over at Bellamy again. "Do you see how hard this is going to be?"

"She had to have come across new information or someone is talking him up," Bellamy shrugged, looking over at Jasper. "You're practically dating his sister. What has she said?"

"Haven't seen her since the park last night," Jasper admitted, a sheepish grin on his face. "Murphy was not happy."

"You're poking at the beast, Jasper," Bellamy warned, a smirk on his face. He knew how well trained and dangerous Murphy was. They'd been friends, and competitors, since they were children. Their little trip to downtown also proved that Jon had improved.

"I could get a hold of her but I don't know how that is going to help," Jasper shrugged. "Even if she knew Murphy's opinion about Clarke, or his plans, she wouldn't tell me. She respects her brother too much for that."

"And Murphy dislikes you already," Monty pointed, unplugging his hand-held and slipping it back into his pocket. "No need to raise suspicion."

"I'll have to talk with him," Bellamy said, looking out over the balcony at the setting sun. "We've been friends for years and I trust him like a brother, like I trust you two. I'll bring him into the fold but I won't mention the profiles."

"You must not trust him that much if you're going to lie to him," Monty warned, looking at Bellamy with a tight jaw. "I understand the importance of keeping Murphy and his family on our side but I don't believe that manipulating them is the way to do it. If it were me and my family, I'd never forgive you."

"What choice do I have?" Bellamy asked, looking at Monty with a soft smile. "I can't just leave him out of my plans. If Jake Griffin approaches their family before I talk to Jon, it will be over. They wouldn't be able to refuse."

"But talking to him beforehand helps?"

"Yes; he will know my mind and what my intentions are and be forced to choose between us. We've been as brothers since we were old enough to talk," Bellamy sighed, looking back out the open balcony doors. "If they approach the Murphy's, Jon and I will become true rivals and I know that is not what either of us want. I also know how much Jon hates being caged in. You saw him today; he's willing to go all in for a hope of being free from that kind of responsibility."

"He doesn't make any sense," Monty chimed. "He's too willing to throw away everything his family has worked toward. What does he really gain from this new casino idea?"

"You know how he can be," Bellamy reasoned. "He's his own master; never has taken to direction. I'm surprised he could find a position in the military office. He may just be a pencil-pusher but it is something. He's well connected and informed which only serves his purpose if he plans on running the black-market trade downtown."

"If that is his endgame, then let it be," Monty shrugged. "He's not in anyone's way and he isn't causing problems for any of us."

"If he doesn't start a gang war…"

"He hates me; you know?" Jasper pipped up, looking between the two of them. "I wouldn't want to set him off; I'm already on his bad side."

"Then straighten yourself up and talk to him yourself," Bellamy grinned, looking at the lazily relaxed man in front of him. "Talk to him one on one, as a man. I know exactly what he'll say to you, too. I am an older brother after all."

"I haven't done anything!" Jasper retorted, a spark in his eye. "We've never been inappropriate together."

"Never?" Bellamy laughed, shaking his head.

"Never," Jasper assured. "She's fourteen! I've always considered her thoughtful and funny but now that she is growing into a woman, we've developed these unexpected feelings. I won't apologize for that."

"No one is asking you to apologize," Bellamy sighed, siting back at his desk now, turning the screen back toward him. "But you should speak with him to explain yourself, or at the very least, your intentions. Jon isn't a fan of long speeches and flowery words so you'll just have to say what you mean and mean what you say."

"Make peace," Monty grinned, looking back at Bellamy. "So, what are we going to do here? What is the game plan? She's obviously interested in Murphy."

"The game plan remains the same," Bellamy shrugged. "We'll keep an eye on her notes but we'll also get Jon to help us."

"We're not going to act?" Jasper wondered, looking over at Bellamy who was now typing something on his own computer.

"I'm going to have to show some progress to my father so we'll plan a chance encounter here," Bellamy said, turning his screen back toward them. There, in an open email, was an invitation to attend the museums grand re-opening of the art exhibit. They'd touched up and restored some of the older artworks and were throwing a charity benefit for further restoration.

"It's tomorrow night" Jasper commented, looking at the date and time. "How do you know she'll be there?"

"All the great families were invited and Jake Griffin will not miss an opportunity to parade his newly eligible daughter around," Monty nodded, looking at Jasper. "That means we have to bring Murphy into the fold and figure out how to make you more appealing."

"Alright, Jasper, send a message to Murphy and tell him you want to speak with him," Bellamy instructed, motioning for Monty to come around to the desk. "And Monty, I need you transfer those profiles to my hand-held."

The two boys started working diligently while Bellamy casually placed the book he'd been reading in the drawer of his desk. Monty was done in no time, transferring the files before Jasper had finished messaging Murphy. The plans were set in motion and Bellamy felt as if this plan may actually work. He'd felt grim and pessimistic about his chances but the longer he thought about it, the simpler the problem became.

"Now what?" Monty asked, looking up at Bellamy.

"We can't really do anything about Murphy until Jasper and he talk, so we need to look over these profiles and find out what is most important to Clarke Griffin," Bellamy said, motioning for them to follow him to the lounge chairs near the fireplace. "What do we know so far?" Bellamy took his handheld from Monty and both boys looked at the profiles, Jasper pulling out his flask and sipping on it.

"She's obviously interested in wit and humor," Jasper thought out loud, looking between them. "And she appreciates the way Murphy is overprotective of Kat, which Bellamy clearly is with Octavia… is Octavia going to the benefit?"

"She could…" Bellamy grinned, liking where Jasper was going with this.

"We also know that her personality preferences are framed around her belief in this peaceful future for Arkadia," Monty commented, looking over some of her notes. "She seeks a like-minded individual but she doesn't want a puppet; she is seeking someone with skills."

"She also isn't a fan of the arena," Jasper pointed out, offering them a drink from his flask. Bellamy took one before handing it back, his eyes meeting Jasper's.

"I'm not giving up the arena fights," Bellamy insisted, shaking his head. "If she respects honesty and passion than I can give her no better display than in the arena."

"You're also seen as a playboy," Monty pointed out, looking over Bellamy. "You can't be sleeping with half of the eligible women in Arkadia if you want to win Clarke Griffin."

"Noted," Bellamy said, not enjoying this task already. "So, what else is there?"

"How did your conversation go last night?" Monty asked, eyeing him. "I could see there was some tension."

"Oh, she wasn't sugar-coating it," Bellamy laughed, shaking his head. "She thought my fascination at her optimism was an insult and that, I assure you, is a bad thing. If her words were blades, I'd be a dead man."

"She seems to be a fan of intelligent, and more open, topics," Monty commented. "She's a straight forward person but follows formalities when it is necessary which suggests she's not into tradition and formality at all."

"She's a doctor," Jasper chimed. "Her mother is one as well and she has a passion for it, as you found out last night." He grinned at Monty and Monty just rolled his eyes.

"She said that family names and titles don't matter when they're under the knife," Bellamy pointed, remembering her tart words and steely eyes. "She doesn't care for family rivalries and wasted blood; she's a doctor. She sees the violence firsthand."

"So, you'll have to prove your more than just some brainless arena fighter or power-hungry elitist," Monty grinned, looking over at Bellamy. "How are we going to achieve that?"

"Murphy just messaged me back," Jasper said, holding up his hand-held. "He wants to meet right now at the pub."

"Go," Monty grinned, motioning for him to get up. "And straighten yourself up a little."

"Remember, say what you mean, mean what you say," Bellamy urged, motioning for him to get going. "If he hasn't torn your head off by the end of this little talk, bring him back here. Tell him I want to talk to him about something."

"Aye-aye captain," Jasper chuckled, moving from the comfortable chair toward the door. "If I don't come back, it means I'm dead and Murphy did it."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," Monty chuckled, looking back at his handheld as Jasper left, a smile on his face.

Bellamy and Monty sat in silence for a moment, both looking at their handhelds. When Bellamy set down his handheld, Monty looked up at him, a questioning look in his eyes. Monty was not one to hold in his emotions or questions but he was a smart man and understood how to be cautious. Bellamy had respected him for that but he also respected Monty's mind. He was a genius, always thinking ahead and always finding the simplest solutions to any problem. Bellamy treasured not only his devotion to his friends but his determination to succeed.

"Did you mean what you said earlier?" Monty asked, his voice low. "Threatening my family if I refused to help?"

"You make it sound so dramatic," Bellamy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He didn't want Monty to feel like he didn't care; he meant what he said. Jasper, Jon, and Monty were like the brothers he never had. "I would never hurt you or your family. I just knew you'd understand the numbers, the cost if we lose. You appreciate facts and certainties, not schemes and hypotheticals."

"I wonder about you sometimes," Monty sighed, leaning back in the chair. "One moment you are level headed and reasonable, and the next your vindictive and harsh. You never used to be like that. The Bellamy I knew was strong willed but fair…"

"I can't just consider myself anymore," Bellamy replied, watching Monty closely. "Neither can you. We're men now, responsible for the entire future of our families and our faction. If we can't trust one another, understand our own positions, then we are doomed."

"I trust you and I understand your position," Monty replied, a little defensive. "I've been your friend for years and nothing has changed that but you have to understand that I've changed too." Monty's eyes were dark now, a little too threatening and Bellamy didn't like it.

"You still agreed to help," Bellamy replied, his jaw squared.

"I did because you were right," Monty retorted, his voice low. "But understand this; if you threaten me or my family again, especially to manipulate me, I will retaliate. As you said, we're men now and men protect their families and friends; don't make yourself into my enemy."

"You've become bolder," Bellamy smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. "It befits the future head of the Green family. I'll concede to you this time and heed your warning. We're both in precarious positions and I would not see our friendship diminished because of my own careless words."

"And I don't want to lose my friend," Monty assured, leaning forward. "No matter how much of an arrogant prick he is."

"Touché," Bellamy smirked, turning toward the door as someone knocked on it. "Come in!"

The door swung open and in walked Bellamy's father, Kayden. He had a furrowed brow and a surprised look when he spotted Monty sitting with his son. Both Monty and Bellamy stood as he approached, the door shutting behind him as a servant set down a tray with drinks and cups.

"Monty," Kayden smiled, walking toward him and extending his hand. "Good to see you again. What brings you here?"

"I've invited him over to pick his brain," Bellamy smiled, looking over at Monty. "He knows some people that I am unfamiliar with and was helping me sort out some problems."

"I see," Kayden drawled, looking between them before sitting down. "Tell me the truth," he began, motioning for Bellamy to sit back down. "What has Bellamy told you?"

"In regards to what?" Monty replied, his voice even as he sat down next to the older man.

"His eligibility," Kayden said, motioning for the servant to pour them drinks and then leave.

Once she did Monty spoke, his shoulders squared and his gaze unwavering. "He's only told me that he has some viable candidates and some of them are going to be harder to impress than others."

"Do you know names?" Kayden questioned, motioning for Monty to take a drink.

"I've guessed at one, though it seems almost impossible," Monty cautioned, not daring to admit his full involvement as he sipped from his cup.

"You're a clever boy," Kayden nodded, looking at Bellamy. "Did you think you'd be able to question him without raising suspicion?"

"I'd hoped," Bellamy grinned, looking back at Monty. "That he'd keep my confidence."

"We've made our peace and come to an arrangement," Monty assured, looking between them. "If you'd rather speak alone, I'll leave; I'd be glad to look at the faulty codes on your security system."

"Gratitude," Kayden said, motioning for him to go. Monty did so swiftly, taking his handheld and disappearing out the door the servant had just left through.

"What's so urgent?" Bellamy asked, looking at his father's worried face, the amount of alcohol he was consuming as he downed his entire cup evidence enough.

"There's been a problem," Kayden sighed, looking irritated. "On the road from our factory in the north; a shipment of AK-47s was set upon. We had shipped the ammunition separately and it made it to the destination but the guns are unaccounted for. We need to ride out tomorrow night and find out what happened."

"When did this happen?" Bellamy asked, his eyes wide. "Who was it?"

"I suspect grounders from Azgeda or outcast bandits roaming into our territory," Kayden whispered, looking out the window. "It happened this afternoon during the storm north of here. There was some rain that turned to ice so visibility was limited. The same storm is sweeping down on us now so our ride tomorrow will be slow."

"We'll have to use horses," Bellamy groaned, looking out the window at the rolling clouds. "Taking a rover out would draw too much attention."

"It'll be a long hard journey and I plan on taking a half a dozen guards with us," Kayden assured, standing up and pouring himself another drink. Bellamy suddenly felt thirsty and drank half of his cup, his hands shaking in anticipation. This was a disaster for them.

"If those guns aren't recovered before someone finds out about this, our buyers will think we can't protect the product," Bellamy reasoned, going through every possible solution in his head. "We need to keep this quiet for now."

"Already working on it," Kayden nodded, taking a drink out of his cup. "I've rounded up all the surviving guard that accompanied the shipment and told them to stay put in the barracks until we arrive."

"And the dead? What about their families?"

"We recovered all the bodies and are having them identified," Kayden sighed, sounding as if the wind had been knocked out of him. "We'll send them to their families once we figure out what happened."

"When do we leave?" Bellamy asked, standing now, setting his half-drank cup down on the desk. "The benefit is tomorrow night; we cannot be seen missing it."

"No one must see us leave," Kayden said, looking over his shoulder at the closed door. "That's why I sent Monty away. We will leave after the watch has changed, through the North Gate. I've got men positioned to let us pass, unquestioned."

"How long will we be gone? What about mother and Octavia? I don't like leaving them alone in Arkadia," Bellamy whispered, looking back out the window at the sprawling city before him. Just like the Griffin's, his family also had a home overlooking the city.

"Only a day," Kayden smiled, admiring Bellamy's devotion to the women in their family. "I told your mother we were leaving tomorrow night after the benefit but refused to tell her where or why. The less she knows, the better. I've also stationed over a dozen guards on our property and in the house. They will be safe while we are gone."

"I'll be ready," Bellamy assured, looking back out the window.

"We'll leave straight from the house, no stops," Kayden assured, setting his cup down and pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "Let's pray that no one finds out about this."

"I don't see how they won't," Bellamy admitted, looking back at his father. "How many men are dead? How many witnessed what happened?"

"Five dead, five remaining witnesses," his father assured, leaning toward Bellamy. "We have to keep this contained and more importantly, we have to find those guns."

"Who were we sending them to?" Bellamy asked, looking back out the window. "Surely they know their shipment is late."

"It was being sent to the northern military base near the border but that is taken care of. We told them there was a faulty release on a few of them and we wanted to inspect and replace them."

"Better than them finding out we lost the shipment entirely," Bellamy groaned, finishing his drink. "I'll be ready to leave."

"Good," Kayden smiled, placing a hand on Bellamy's shoulder. He then looked back over at the door before turning back, a smirk on his face. "How much does Monty really know about our plans?"

"He understands that if our family doesn't succeed, his won't either," Bellamy whispered, feeling a proud grin spread over his lips. "He's agreed to help me."

"You're lucky that your friends appreciate your shrewd maneuvers," Kayden joked, nudging Bellamy. "The Blake's and Green's have been partners and allies for well over two centuries; I'd hate to see your generation forsake that friendship."

"I'm careful to maintain it," Bellamy nodded, feeling a bit guilty that he was speaking of Monty in such absolute terms. He was a friend but both understood the important meaning that friendship represented for people in their position.

"Then I'll leave you to it," Kayden waved, moving toward the door. "I'll send Monty back up. He probably really is checking on the security system."

"Undoubtedly," Bellamy grinned, moving to pour another drink. His father left the room and Bellamy let his mind wander to their predicament. There was no way to conceal twenty-one guns being stolen for more than a day without raising suspicion. It was also going to take them at least that long to catch up with the thieves in general. This problem was about to ruin any chances he had of fulfilling their plan. After a few moments, Monty came strolling in, still looking at his handheld.

"What was that about?" he asked, throwing a puzzled look over his shoulder. "He looked a little more than flustered."

"Some extra work we weren't counting on," Bellamy shrugged, sitting back down in the comfortable chair next to the fireplace. "I've got to help my father with it. He insists I learn how his business is conducted."

"He's right," Monty shrugged, sitting back down as well. "So, how in the hell do we seduce Clarke Griffin?"

Bellamy smiled at this, looking back at his handheld, his picture staring back at him. "Well, she said she thinks I'm arrogant," Bellamy began, mulling over the ridiculous idea. "And she says I'm dishonest but doesn't really specify what about. If I were to guess, I'd say she thinks I am dishonest with my words, with the formalities of our position. She thinks I'm just going through the motions and enjoying the perks it gives me."

"That would tie in the arrogance comment," Monty noted, looking at his own screen. "So, how do we change that opinion?"

"I'm just going to have to be a straight shooter," Bellamy shrugged. "When I get the chance to speak to her again, informally because I will maintain my distance, I'll have to just be honest. No formalities or pleasantries; just myself."

"What if she still doesn't like you?"

"Impossible," he shook his head. "She'll appreciate the honesty and plain speech. She's already proved she doesn't mince words either. Besides, what are her options anyway? Landell Pike? Wells' cousin? Murphy? Come on… none of them can offer her what I can."

"No wonder she thinks your arrogant," Monty chuckled. "What else? There must be more than that. What makes her so curious about Murphy?"

"The notes say mysterious, independent, and mirrors sentiments towards classism," Bellamy noted, looking over Jon's profile. "That's quite vague."

"Mysterious, sure," Monty shrugged, looking over at Bellamy. "Murphy never does what you think he's going to do or says what you think he will. He's unpredictable which makes him independent. He doesn't rely heavily on power and position as is clear with his current career in the military. He doesn't endeavor to outrank his peers or climb the ladder; he just wants to be comfortable."

"Clarke doesn't seem like a simple girl," Bellamy noted, meeting Monty's eyes. "She doesn't seem to want a boring life as a wife or mother. I think she knows it is expected of her but she still plans on wielding power. That's what I think that classism note was about."

"It doesn't make sense," Monty shrugged, his eyes distant as he mulled over their problem. "If she hates classism so much, why grasp for power? Why play the game at all if you aren't going to play by the rules?"

"This where I think we are alike," Bellamy admitted, looking over his profile. "She makes up her own rules."

"Ballsy," Monty admitted, crossing his arms over his chest. "She'd rather rewrite the rules herself than be forced to play by someone else's."

"That's why I am ranked so low too," Bellamy assured, thinking of the list and his scores. "She sees the similarities between us and has immediately ruled me out because of it. She's used to being in charge, being independent and focused solely on her career. Clarke doesn't want someone like me interfering with her plans."

"It makes sense," Monty agreed, rubbing the small beard that was growing on his chin. "But that still doesn't explain what she sees in Murphy. Murphy has never really cared for the rules at all and doesn't seem interested in playing the game."

"That's why she's interested," Bellamy chuckled, waving his hand for emphasis. "What could be better for Clarke than a partner who doesn't even want to play the game? It gives her an equal who hates the rules just as much as she does. He's not a puppet to her; he's a partner."

"And you want to seduce and marry this woman? She's going to be your wife and the mother of your children, Bellamy. Have you gone insane?"

"What choice do I have?" Bellamy asked, his voice full of defeat. "Unless you have an eligible sister hidden away, I'll have to marry Clarke."

"Don't pretend like there isn't some sick satisfaction in it," Monty smirked. "You have always liked being the best, always proving that you and your family are the best. This is just the ultimate game; this is where the tables turn."

"I can't argue with that," Bellamy admitted, nodding his head. "Whether I like her is irrelevant. She's the only logical solution unless my father actually wanted to go through with a foreign match."

"This just doesn't seem fair," Monty finally whispered, remaining silent a few moments to take in the gravity of the situation. "If I were in your shoes, I'd be furious."

"You are in my shoes," Bellamy assured, raising his eyebrow at him. "But you actually like the girl you've been given."

"It's more than like," Monty assured, a sheepish grin spreading over his face. "And she wasn't given to me; I earned her affection."

"And I'm happy for you," he nodded, looking back at his handheld. "Some of us just get the wrong end of the deal."

"I wish I could be as patient and level headed as you," Monty sighed, shaking his head. "I wouldn't even be considering this kind of plan, no matter what my father wanted."

There was another knock on the door now and before he could give permission, it swung open revealing Jasper and Murphy. Both boys were waving at Octavia as she made her way down the hallway, shutting the door behind them. Bellamy was relieved to see neither one of his friends were beaten up or bloodied.

"I see you two have worked things out," Monty commented, looking between them.

"Oh, it wasn't me that convinced him," Jasper smirked, looking between Bellamy and Monty. "Why don't you tell them, Murphy…"

"Are they going to be as shocked as you?" he asked, a sly grin on his face. He pushed his hand through his straight but messy hair.

"Guaranteed," Jasper nodded, taking a cup from the tray Bellamy's father had left and filling it. "Regale them with the story of your day."

"Is this why you drug me out here?" Murphy asked, his eyes narrowed on the three of them. "So we could gossip like a bunch of teenage girls?"

"No, believe me, it's relevant," Jasper insisted, sitting down and sipping on his drink.

Murphy hesitated a moment, moving across from Jasper and Monty and sitting on the comfortable bench leisurely. "Well, I was pissed at Kat this morning for sneaking off with this idiot last night," Murphy began, an energy to his words that caught their attention. "But when I finally found her in the market, I forgot all about it. She was talking with someone I'd never even considered speaking with and I have to admit, I'm kind of jealous."

"Who?" Monty asked, his curiosity peaked.

"Who indeed," Murphy smirked, looking between them. "My sister was talking about suitors with Clarke Griffin."

Bellamy's jaw nearly dropped with this news. It had all come together now; Clarke had gotten new information from Kat as well as Jon himself. That's why she added more notes to his profile and why he's so appealing to her. Kat had talked him up.

"Who were they talking about?" Jasper pressed, smirking over at Monty.

"Me," Murphy grinned, motioning for Bellamy to grab the drinks before he sat down. "Or so I suspect. Kat could have been lying though; her and Clarke aren't the best of friends or anything. It could have been just polite conversation."

"Tell them the rest," Jasper chuckled, taking a drink from his cup again.

"I won't repeat it," Murphy warned, his voice low.

"Clarke talked Murphy into seeing things from his sister's perspective," Jasper motioned as Bellamy handed Jon a cup. "He's not fully onboard with Kat and I but he's more open minded; he didn't threaten to kill me so that's a step in the right direction."

"Clarke Griffin convinced Jon Murphy to be a little easier on you?" Monty questioned, his voice riddled with doubt.

"No, on my sister," Murphy replied, sipping from his cup. "I'll try and make her happy but like I told Jasper; he breaks her heart and I'll break his spine."

"Not much incentive for me to cross you now," Jasper chimed, smirking at Bellamy. "I can see no advantage to becoming a cripple."

"This is unbelievable," Monty laughed, looking between Bellamy and Murphy. He then looked at Jasper.

"I thought so too," Murphy nodded, taking another drink. "But for some reason Kat likes her; I don't think she realizes the position that puts our family in though."

"No, I don't think either of you understand," Bellamy warned, donning his alpha voice. All three of the other teens paused and looked at him now, anticipating his next words for entirely separate reasons. Bellamy had the perfect way to bring Murphy to their side, all while avoiding the potential match between Murphy and Clarke. "You realize that if Jake Griffin knew of their friendship, he'd milk it for all it's worth?"

"I warned Kat," Murphy confessed, holding up his hand in defense. "I warned her of the consequences and told her to watch what she says."

"And you?" Bellamy asked, eyeing Jon closely. "Did you watch what you said?"

"What does that mean?" Murphy asked, his voice low and dangerous.

"I know you wouldn't divulge secrets," Bellamy assured, narrowing his eyes. "But I have a feeling there is a reason Clarke Griffin has befriended your sister."

"Bellamy is right," Monty insisted, seeing the way Murphy's jaw tensed. "She's an enemy to all of our families. There is a reason for her actions and words."

"And you probably fell right into her trap," Bellamy nodded, catching Monty's eye. "By encouraging you to consider your sister's feelings toward Jasper, she's arranged a beneficial match for her side of the aisle."

"Wait a minute," Jasper interrupted, looking between them. "How are Kat and I pawns in all of this?"

"Think about it," Bellamy urged, looking at Jasper knowingly. "Both of your families are gaining prominence but are still considered new money. By arranging a match between the two of them, and gaining confirmation that it is a desired match, she's eliminated the possibility of either one of your families marrying up." Both Jasper and Murphy paused to think about this but it was Monty's appreciative smirk that encouraged Bellamy to continue. "You've given her exactly what she wanted. A match between two minor families that won't rise to threaten her when she gains power."

"You think she is capable of that?" Murphy asked, the doubt etched in his face. "She struck me as sincere and open with her intentions."

"She's been raised to play the game," Monty chimed, patting Jasper's shoulder. "She knows all the tricks and cheats to win."

Murphy stayed silent a moment before looking over at Jasper, noting the look of annoyance and despair in his eyes. Bellamy could tell that Murphy wanted to say something to him but he was holding it back; an appreciated gesture because Jasper spoke first. "I have feelings for your sister," Jasper admitted, not looking away from Murphy. "I don't care for the status of my family any more than you do. All I want is to be with her on my own terms. If Clarke Griffin is using those feelings to manipulate us, we have to figure out a way to stop her."

"Exactly the reason I wanted you to come over, Murphy," Bellamy smiled, skillfully guiding the conversation back to the overall goal. "We need your assistance and I don't have much time to explain. Octavia will be more than upset if I don't read to her tonight." He needed Murphy to help them and to oppose Clarke. Thanks to Kat, and Jasper's quick thinking, Murphy was weary of the golden-haired heiress. Now all Bellamy had to do was convince Jon of their plan, making it clear that the bachelors on Clarke's list were just lucky guesses on Bellamy's part.

* * *

"So, your mother seemed a bit cross," Raven hummed, drinking her coffee and eating a pastry. They were sitting on a restaurant pavilion enjoying the cool breeze and the sun that peaked through the clouds. The rain that had come through last night had made the streets wet, covered in puddles and small rivers of sludge and slush flowing along the sidewalks. Raven and Clarke had met at sunrise that morning and travelled across town to their favorite deli, just a few blocks from the hospital.

"She's still mad about my little encounter with the Murphy siblings yesterday," Clarke smirked, sipping on her own drink; a green tea and honey blend.

"How was that by the way? You mentioned it earlier but we never really spoke about it."

"Enlightening," Clarke smirked, grabbing her bag that was hanging over the arm of her chair. She pulled out a large envelope and handed to Raven, motioning for her to open it. She pulled out the first sheet, eyeing it closely before looking back at Clarke, an amused smirk on her face.

"So, I see you've compiled a list," Raven chuckled, looking over the nine names, four of them highlighted. "Quite the list really; the four highlighted names are the top contenders?"

"My mother and I narrowed them down, a few options are more appealing than others," Clarke admitted, munching on a muffin. They were her favorites from this deli and she got them almost every day at lunch when she was working at the hospital. "I need your opinion. You know them better than my mother does."

"Well, out of the entire list, the four you have chosen are all contrasting and unique," Raven started, moving her chair closer to Clarke and pulling out the other four papers. All four were profiles of each of the top men, their faces staring back at the two girls. "Why would you print these? What if you'd lost them and someone else got a hold of them?"

"I couldn't figure out how to put it on my handheld," Clarke sighed, motioning at her bag. "We'll burn them if you want but I need your advice on the four profiles I've compiled."

"You and technology don't mix," Raven smirked, shuffling through each page slowly, reading carefully. Clarke only sat by her side, drinking and snacking, making minor comments about notes and statistics. She even gave her little explanations for Raven to understand how they were ranked. After a few minutes, she set the stack of papers face down, looking at Clarke with an amused smirk. She had that twinkle in her eyes, like when she'd finished a particularly demanding project.

"Well, all four are powerful," Raven nodded, drinking some of her coffee again. "However, I would rule out Wells' cousin, Nate. He hasn't been with anyone as far as I can remember. He's always been uninterested in them marriage and plans on focusing entirely on his political career. I think he wants to take over his brother's position as Ambassador when he retires to his family's estate. He'd reside in Polis so that won't work for you."

"You're right, it wouldn't," Clarke admitted, taking a sip of her tea. "But I can't possibly rule out such a family that is so firmly on our side. If I do, two out of the three suitors will be rivals and enemies."

"Landell Pike is your best choice," Raven assured, her voice quiet as she eyed the passersby. "He's a land owner with vast estates and is more likely to allow one of your sons to take the Griffin name."

"And if I only have girls?" Clarke laughed, looking her over.

"Even better," Raven winked, looking at the people moving about the streets early that morning. "This way the Pike's don't lose a son and have the potential for several heirs with both family names. The female heirs can have sons with the Griffin name; you'll just have to pass it on to your grandchildren."

"He's a bit older than me," Clarke confessed, feeling a bit hesitant to choose only one of the suitors. She couldn't deny that her interest in Jon Murphy was keeping him in the running. "Almost six years' difference."

"That's not much at all," Raven smiled, shaking her head. "He's an older man which isn't such a bad thing; he's more experienced."

"And I want something like that? Someone with experience?"

"You may," Raven nodded. "He'll know how to please a woman and won't be some inexperienced boy. He'll also be less fickle and impatient which will benefit you greatly."

"Fine, but I still don't want to rule out all the other candidates," Clarke urged, looking over at Raven pointedly. "I'm intrigued by Jon Murphy."

"I could tell," Raven teased, an almost giddy laugh escaping her lips. "Is that why your mother was so cross about meeting him yesterday?"

"He caught my attention and I couldn't help it," Clarke grinned. "He's not grim or uncaring as others would suggest. He's deeper than that; I don't know how to explain it really. There is something there."

"He's not completely unpleasant," Raven shrugged. "But his family is less prominent and on the enemy's side. Why risk turning him?"

"Call it selfish revenge," Clarke shrugged. "My mother wanted me to marry someone like Wells but that's not the kind of marriage I want. I want more than just a pleasant political alliance."

"Well, I'm not opposed to helping you try to turn Murphy over to our side, I just don't know why you would go through the extra effort, and the danger, for a more thrilling marriage. I also didn't think you'd be so rebellious; this is a new side to Clarke Griffin that I've never seen."

"It's not thrills, it's passion, loyalty, trust… it is more than just pleasant relations. If I can't earn these from my future husband, what is the marriage based on?" Clarke's voice was low and Raven could tell she was serious, a smirk growing on her face.

"Fine but if you're going to go fishing, go for the big fish," Raven laughed, finishing the rest of her coffee. "Why go for Murphy when Bellamy is available?"

"Mother wanted him on the list for that very same reason," Clarke reasoned. "He is the big fish in this small pond but very unlikely. I only placed him there to please my mother's wishes. I honestly don't understand her mind in it. Any children I had with a Blake would surely remain Blake's; girls or boys."

"Undoubtedly," Raven nodded, both of them taken by surprise as a horn from down the street parted the crowd. Clarke watched curiously as the car sped past the crowds, turning the corner and up the wide street to the hospital.

After the bustle of the passing car settled, Clarke looked back at Raven to see her eyeing her friend closely. When she gave her friend a quizzical look, Raven smirked, patting her arm. "I think that all three candidates have an equal chance, including Bellamy. After all, you're always an idealist and a peace maker; always taking on the problems of the world. Wedding a Blake, or better yet making him fall for you, would be a good first step on this high road you insist on taking."

"Bellamy Blake is less than ideal," Clarke said, shaking her head as she finished her tea, grabbing the files from Raven and placing them back in the envelope. "I've spoken with him and he's not my type."

"It didn't look that way," Raven smirked. "I saw the heated discussion, the looks he was shooting you the whole night, and I saw how passionately you were pushing him away."

"He's grasping," Clarke scoffed, her brow furrowing in disbelief. "He's manipulative, cunning, and completely dangerous."

"And you're not?" Raven questioned, her brow raising in confusion. "You're the one grasping for power to save your family name. You're also manipulating these suitors against one another. Almost every eligible bachelor is making plans to throw their hat into the ring and you're cunning enough make sure your choice will both support and understand your intentions. That, if you succeed, makes you dangerous anyway."

"I am nothing like Bellamy Blake," Clarke laughed. "Nothing at all. He's an uncaring, power-hungry elitist with no thoughts but his own elevation."

"Is that the man you met the other night?" Raven asked, pressing Clarke's patience even further. "What did you two talk about that has you so against him?"

"He's a Blake. What other reason do I need?" Clarke snapped, her nose wrinkling in distaste.

"So much for peaceful discourse," Raven blurted, looking slightly irritated as she whispered to Clarke. "All your talk of ending the rivalry and yet you won't even consider a Blake as a suitor. You're becoming a little self-righteous Clarke."

Clarke didn't argue back at this; instead she remained quiet, contemplating Raven's words. She couldn't help but feel a little guilty about her reaction to Raven's suggestion and her duplicity when it came to suitors. She felt utterly ashamed of herself and it obviously showed in her face because like Clarke, Raven remained silent. It gave her time to think about her words and actions, contemplating the motivation of each of her decisions.

She'd never thought her suspicion of the Blake family to be a problem. She was a practical girl and growing up she made sure to learn all the family histories and their feud was rooted in Blake betrayal. This is commonly known but some would argue that their backstabbing was warranted due to elitist corruption amongst those who, now, helped govern the council. Clarke had been instilled with prejudice by her parents but also by her grandparents. Her grandmother died when Clarke was five and her grandfather, later, when she was twelve. The heated conversations about the Blake's barbarity and dishonesty were never far from her grandfather's lips. He was always the wisest and funniest man she'd ever known.

But she never considered being cautious of the Blake's to be a prejudice. It was stupid not to be weary of them, as they were dangerous to her own family. Perhaps that was the problem; she wasn't thinking of the alternative as a possibility. She wasn't even giving peace a try and the way that bothered her, deep down, turned her stomach. She didn't care for the dangerous games their families played, the rules too imbalanced and costing too many lives. Clarke needed an experienced, powerful, cunning but likable candidate and the only man to fit that description is Bellamy Blake. The only problem was that, like Clarke, he was ambitious. He would do anything to protect his family and Clarke couldn't let her family's name die with her; her pride wouldn't allow it.

"He's too ambitious," Clarke finally said, looking over at Raven with determination. "He's smart and powerful but he's too dangerous to cross or trust."

"Who said you need to trust him?" Raven smirked, nodding at Clarke. "He's good looking and smart which turns you on. He's the only candidate on your list that guarantees many children and the foundation of your united Arkadia. What more do you need?"

"It's not so simple," Clarke whispered, looking about them. "I have to conceive a child whose name is Griffin and I have to find someone who can at least tolerate my political agenda. I have a feeling he'd oppose it at every chance he got."

"How do you know he wouldn't agree to it if you don't give him a chance?" Raven asked, her eyes questioning and giddy. "Let's give them all equal chance. I've honestly been curious about Bellamy Blake for years."

"Landell Pike and Jon Murphy are both experienced and smart as well," Clarke reasoned, watching Raven closely. "I haven't got to talk to them as much but I think tonight will be a good chance. Not to mention, I can gauge their response to my plans better if I were to get some one-on-one time with them."

"What about Bellamy? You're going to want to speak to him as well…"

"I don't think I'll have a choice," Clarke ground out. "You'll have to help me tonight."

"Sounds like some fun," Raven nodded. "But first things first, we need to pick you out an outfit. We don't want it to be too revealing but we want it to get some attention."

Clarke couldn't help but grin at her friend's suggestion. Raven was an organized and outgoing person. Her wardrobe reflected that in every way; she had clothes for almost every occasion. Clarke was thankful for this because her own wardrobe mainly consisted of scrubs and comfortable clothing. Tonight, Raven would have to help transform her and for the first time, Clarke felt her stomach turn nervously. Tonight would be the first night in her life that the entirety of Arkadia would be watching her, expecting her to choose a partner. The pressure could not have been more frightening and Raven must have noticed because she took Clarke's hand, her eyes soft and endearing.

"We'll get through this together," she offered, making Clarke smile weakly.

* * *

 **There is more to come! Please R &R! And again, much love to my readers. **


	6. Chapter 6: Banquets & Benefits

**Thanks for all the love and support readers! More is coming. R &R! **

* * *

Clarke was standing in her chamber, in front of the digital mirror, the dress options starting to blend together. She'd been standing there debating the look she wished to portray at the benefit for over two hours. Raven insisted on helping her choose her outfit that night but Clarke was still nervous about the benefit. Clarke, being impatient, had been roaming through the options all afternoon. Her father and mother had eaten dinner already and had some small trays of food brought up as she debated between outfits. It was when she'd finished her second cup of her favorite blue alcohol that Raven knocked on her door.

"I see you've already started," Raven chuckled, her own outfit beautiful. She was wearing a deep red, full length, gown. The neck was a sharp V-shape, the shoulders hanging over her upper arms elegantly. It complimented her beautifully long and dark hair wonderfully and Clarke only wished she had a tall and thin frame like Raven did. Clarke also appreciated Raven's strappy sandals and the way her hair was pleated and wound around several silver and red hair pieces.

"I'm totally unsure of what to wear," Clarke admitted, setting her cup down. "You pick."

"You're so indecisive sometimes," Raven laughed, walking over to the mirror and swiping through the dress options.

"Only about stuff like this," Clarke smirked, rolling her eyes.

"I think I have the perfect color in mind if I could only find the style that would work," Raven replied, diligently sorting the dresses by color. It was when she pulled up a black, full length and strapless gown with an elegant lace pattern around the bust, that Clarke observed her reflection. Raven only grinned at Clarke, confirming the choice before walking toward the closet in the corner to pick out jewels and shoes.

After finishing up her outfit, her hair pulled high on her head with silver pins and blue jewels, she stepped into her sapphire blue shoes. Raven nodded in approval at the look while she powdered some light eyeshadow and liner onto Clarke's face. After she was finished with the makeup she gave Clarke a little bit of gloss for her lips and turned to inspect her own reflection.

"Are you nervous or excited about tonight?" Raven finally asked, fixing her own eyeliner. "I can't tell; you seem pretty laid back."

"I'm a mix of both," Clarke admitted, feeling a blush on her cheek. "The problem is that I can't tell what I am excited or nervous about."

"What do you mean by that?" Raven scoffed, looking at her in the mirror. "You've never dated a single guy in the sixteen years I've known you; you've never even taken interest. You're a complete novice at this and it makes you nervous and excited. What more is there to understand?"

"I'm not some helpless child," Clarke sighed, looking over her shoulder for her at Raven. "I know how it works and the fact that my best friend thinks I'm some sort of love-struck teen is a little offensive."

"I'm just saying," Raven laughed, putting her hands up in defeat. "Besides, you picked a pretty safe date for your first time. Murphy doesn't seem like the pushy-type or the super macho man."

"I have to meet with each of the suitors on my list," Clarke shrugged, inspecting herself one last time in the mirror as she spoke. "Besides, I don't expect to stay there for long. I have a grueling work schedule for the next three days. I'm stuck overseeing the new interns. I need to go, achieve what I need, and leave. Speaking alone to each of these suitors is going to be a challenge either way. Bellamy Blake will surely be there."

"Maybe that's what your nervous and excited about," Raven winked, making Clarke flush. Raven only laughed before turning to her friend, taking her hands. "So, I think after we do some digging tonight we get together again and work out a solution for this Blake problem."

"We can try," Clarke grumbled. "I really don't have many options. If I don't play it safe and marry Landell, I have one of two choices; marry Bellamy and let the Griffin name die out with my father or marry Murphy and hope he and his family can help me to persuade the others to turn against the Blake's."

"Those can't be your only options," Raven said, wrinkling her nose in distaste. "The safe option isn't so unappealing. Landell's family is the third most powerful in Arkadia with their vast farmlands and trade deals with Polis."

"Landell is still a very viable option," Clarke admitted. "The Blake's are crude people and probably wouldn't bristle at the thought of war, should it come to it. So, a united front with the Pike family would be helpful."

"Bellamy isn't so unappealing," Raven smirked, making Clarke look at her doubtfully.

Before she could retort there was a knock on the door and her mother entered, wearing a simple green dress with fine jewels around her neck. She smiled at the two girls and motioned for them to follow her; the car must have been ready.

"Your father is waiting," Abby commented as they made their way from the room. "And you both look stunning." Abby wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to show Clarke off to high society at the museum benefit. As they descended the stairs, Clarke could hear her father discussing the benefit and leaving instructions with the head of the household staff.

"Beautiful," Jake said, spotting them coming down the stairs, waving off the man in the simple gray outfit. "You ladies look absolutely beautiful."

"We're going to be late," Abby pressed, joining him near the small but open foyer. Jake was dressed in a simple but fashionable black tunic, with their family's signature red and yellow trim.

"Fashionably late is always ideal," Raven smiled, looping her arm through Clarke's.

"Come, I'm sure most of the noble families are already in attendance," Abby smiled, taking Jake's arm.

"Well then," Jake nodded, turning to the door. "Let's get going. The car is waiting in the drive."

On the short ride to the museum, the four of them spoke jokingly about the people who'd be at the benefit, the overcrowded onlookers, and the boisterous trouble makers. It was interesting to see her parents interact with Raven again. It'd been a while since she'd spent this much time with them; Raven had been busy since she entered the prep academy a year ahead of Clarke. Her parents adored Raven like their own daughter and it showed; her father used to remark at how bright and honest she was. Raven was never one to sugar-coat her intentions, feelings, or meanings and a friend like that, as her father had once commented, was invaluable. Clarke was delighted to be able to spend this time with Raven and her parents and for the briefest of moments, forgot her intentions for the night. When Raven was around, she felt like she had an older sister. They'd been so close since Raven's mother died giving birth to Lily, both Clarke and Raven doing everything they could to make sure Lily knew her mother, Renee. When the car had come to a stop outside the grand steps of the museum, Abby and Jacob got out first, the small gathering of people outside the museum stopping to watch as the four of them stepped from the car and up the steps.

Clarke pulled Raven in tightly, her arm linking with hers as she whispered in her ear. "I'll seriously need your help tonight," Clarke admitted, speaking quickly. "All three of the candidates will be here tonight. We need to learn more about their personalities so it'd be smart if you made the introductions."

"How could I disagree with such a proposition," she smirked, nodding at Clarke. "Landell Pike, Bellamy Blake, and Jon Murphy will probably be charming and pleasing toward you so you better not fall for it. All of them are aware of your intentions."

"Just set me up to talk to them one-on-one," Clarke whispered, cresting the stairs after her parents into the large open chamber that was the museum's main hall. The walls were covered in paintings, the top floors featuring sculpture and literature as well as artifacts from times past. It was a massive room with a glass ceiling and several doorways into annexes and wings full of more art, literature, and artifacts. Tonight, the museum was full of many finely dressed people. The plainly dressed serving waiters and waitresses were carrying around trays of drinks and finger foods which glittered in the bright downlighting around the large room.

It was dazzling, with soft music playing over an intercom, making the colorful paintings and tapestries bloom over the white walls and simple wooden floor. Clarke walked with Raven down the second set of stairs and into the crowd, her parents immediately finding Charles and Natasha Pike. Standing next to them was their eldest son Landell and their youngest son Terrance. Clarke immediately assessed Landell, approaching with a soft smile. He was tall, over six foot and his frame was muscular and broad shouldered. He had long and wavy dark hair tied up behind his head and bright amber eyes, much like his mother's.

"Good to see you again Abby," Natasha spoke, kissing her mother's cheeks. "Is this young Clarke? You all look so dazzling." She turned to Clarke, kissing her cheek as well. "You're sixteen now, correct?"

"Yes Mrs. Pike," Clarke smiled, looking over at Charles. He smiled at her and took Jake's arm, embracing him.

"And this must be Terrance," Abby smiled down at the boy standing next to Natasha. He wasn't yet a teen, his bright eyes and boyish features obvious in his beautifully adorned outfit, the signature yellow and light blue of the Pike family. He looked regal, almost stoic, but Clarke could see the boyish curiosity and shyness as he looked between the three new women in front of him. "You've grown so much. How old are you now?"

"Twelve," he nodded, his voice breaking slightly. Clarke couldn't help but smile down at him, looking over at Landell as he shook her father's hand.

"Landell," her father said, looking him over. "I haven't seen you since you won in the arena four years ago, during the international games. How have you been? How is the family business treating you?"

"Lively as ever," Landell smiled and Clarke admired the genuine interest in his voice as he spoke. It was a deep but gentle voice that immediately drew her attention. "We've just passed a major bill in the courts that lowers the tax on the small family farmer. It will encourage younger families to move from the city to settle the outer districts. It was an ambitious project but I'm glad there was no opposition."

"A great victory for many," Charles nodded, looking over at Landell. "He's a real chip off the old block."

"Indeed, patient and thoughtful like his mother," Natasha interjected, smirking at him. "Clarke, I don't believe you've met my son, Landell."

Kayden and Abby stepped back a bit, talking to Charles as Natasha motioned for Landell to come stand by her and greet Clarke. He did and Clarke immediately felt dwarfed. He was so tall that Clarke had to crane her neck slightly to look up into his face. He smiled down at her, first taking her hand and kissing her cheek and then turning to Raven, recognizing her and mirroring the gesture.

"It is nice to see you again Raven and a delight to meet you Clarke," he said, his mother moving to speak with Abby again. "I've heard of your works at the hospital; you're the top apprentice surgeon. And I've heard of your breakthrough's Raven. Your recruitment into the A.R.F. is astounding. The youngest ever admitted." Landell turned from them as a waiter passed by, stopping him and grabbing drinks for the three of them.

"You work at the A.R.F.?" Terrance pipped up, looking at Raven curiously, his boyish voice betraying his interest. "You're an engineer?"

"Definitely not," Raven chuckled, looking down at the boy as she took a sip from her glass. "I'm a mechanic."

"I want to be an engineer," he said, his voice shy again.

"And I think Raven might know some engineers," Landell smiled, patting his brother on the shoulder as he sipped his own drink. "Maybe she can recommend someone to talk to you about it?"

"I know a guy," Raven smirked, instantly picturing the sandy blonde she was forced to frequently work with named Wick. "I'll let him know you're interested."

"How goes your work at the hospital?" Landell asked, turning to Clarke with a soft smile. "I hear you're already a successful surgeon."

"Word spreads fast in Arkadia," Clarke nodded, taking a drink from her cup. "My mother has taught me all that she knows and I'm grateful for that; without her guidance, I don't think I could have done it."

"Speaking of reputations, I am grateful that you live up to yours," Raven commented, looking up at Landell with a slight smirk.

"Reputation?" he asked, a blush coming over his face, his curiosity shining through his eyes as he looked down at them.

"Don't play coy Landell," Raven smiled, taking another drink. "You have quite the reputation already."

"I'm flattered there is something to be said about me," Landell smiled, looking over at Clarke, his eyes lingering only a moment before looking back at Raven. "But I'm not sure what I've done to earn one."

"It's true," Clarke chimed in, catching his eye again. "I've heard great things about your work in the guilds as well as on your own estate. I was hoping I'd get a chance to meet you tonight; after all, our families are quite close and I wanted to formally introduce myself."

He was caught off guard at that moment, looking between the two women before rubbing the back of his neck gently. "I'm not sure what to say," he smiled, looking down at his feet before looking up at Clarke again. "I'm very happy to meet you, Clarke. I've heard nothing but good things about you as well."

"This may seem forward but would you do me the honor of escorting me through the gallery?" Clarke asked, taking another sip of her drink. "I'm quite interested in some of the high renaissance art."

"I'd be happy to," Landell said, offering his arm to her with a grin. She took it slowly and guided her away from their parents. Clarke looked back over her shoulder to see an encouraging nod from Raven before he escorted her through the crowd, around the small dance floor, and toward the annex labelled Renaissance. "So, is this your first benefit?"

"I've been to others but this is my first time being formally introduced to society," Clarke smiled, looking up at him. "I am glad you decided to escort me. I was hoping to speak to you alone tonight."

"I figured you might," Landell admitted, taking another drink from his glass. "I hope you don't think I'm rude for expecting it."

"I hope I wasn't being rude," Clarke whispered, stopping near a piece of art by Botticelli, away from the small groups roaming around the annex chatting. "I just want to get to know my colleagues."

"You weren't being rude; you strike me as an honest and outspoken person so allow me to run my theory by you," Landell smiled, looking at the painting in front of them. "Would it be rude to say that I know you are looking for a suitor?"

"A little," Clarke grinned, looking him over now. "It is true. I'll be considering suitors but if I am going to consider anything, I must first observe it, understand it. Like a painting." She chuckled, looking back at the Biblical scene.

"I understand," he said, his voice low and a little hesitant. "I've never been approached so brazenly so I'll try and give you the right impression."

"There's no need to speak of suitors right away," Clarke shrugged, glancing up at him, meeting his bright amber eyes. "Just answer me this; what do you plan to do when you take over your father's position on the council?"

"A political discussion?" Landell asked, his eyes wide as an amused grin spread over his lips. "I had given it some thought. I am aware our families are aligned and I'd like to keep that relationship. Our military and farming land are a cornerstone of the stability we've achieved."

"I'm happy you'd maintain our alliance," Clarke admitted, looping her hand back through his arm and taking another sip from her cup. "But may I tell you what I plan to do? I'm hoping you live up to your reputation as a trustworthy man when it comes to this."

"Plots and intrigues?" Landell asked, walking with her past some more paintings, stopping at a less notable Holbein. His voice was deep and the hint of distaste was evident. "I have to admit, I'm not a fan of covert deals and agreements."

"No plots or intrigues," Clarke admitted, choosing her words carefully. "I merely wish for you to lend me your opinion on my position, perhaps even your help."

"You have my attention," he admitted, looking over the oil painting in front of him. "But it sounds an awful lot like a plot."

"To be honest, I'm hoping by revealing my plans you'll trust me," Clarke admitted, turning to him. "I am sick of the infighting, the petty vendettas, and plots that corrupt the system and make it impossible to enact sensible policy," Clarke whispered, glancing about them for anyone who may have been close enough to overhear. "I'm sick of seeing stab victims and beaten henchman laying on my surgical table between life or death. It's a waste of life and resources. I want to focus on Arkadia as a whole, not an agreement between war-torn families. To be frank, I want to see our resources go to expanding her borders and enriching her people."

"A peaceful future?" Landell asked, clearly surprised by her proposal. "How would you achieve peace after three generations of hatred and distrust?"

"We must all overcome hatred and distrust if we're going to protect our way of life," Clarke assured. "It won't be easy and many people won't like it but peace is the only way for us to thrive in this world. Azgeda and her allies won't back down if we aren't united against them. I say we work all of our petty problems out amongst ourselves."

"Your proposal is smart, ambitious, and quite unpredictable," Landell sighed, sounding a bit breathless. He stood there a moment, thinking about her words before biting his lip, a bit hesitant to respond. He took a large gulp from his cup and then sat it down on an empty bench. "You're asking me, as a potential suitor and current ally, if I'm going to impede your plans."

"I'm am," Clarke nodded, still looking up into his face. "Do you think I'm crazy, maybe even a bit too ambitious?"

"I think you've got ferocity and conviction," Landell smiled, looking away from her. "I appreciate your conviction and your straight forward approach but I fear we may not see eye to eye on some things."

"Is that a bad thing?" Clarke asked coyly. "I did ask for your aid; an outside perspective is exactly what I need."

"I don't believe that forming friendships with the Blake's and their faction will do us any real good, at least not for another generation," he began, his voice low as they walked on down the gallery again, arm-in-arm. "If there is one thing that running a guild has taught me is that the infighting and the disagreements cannot be handled quickly. It takes time and patience for such prejudice to be overcome and it takes even longer to persuade people to come together for the greater good."

"So, what do you suggest?" she asked, looking over at him again.

"If you want immediate results, your only path is a violent one," Landell admitted, his voice soft but steady. "However, if you've got the patience, an advantageous marriage, and the foundations of friendship between the families on the council, peace could be cultivated over time, for future generations."

"With respect, I disagree," Clarke replied, gaining his attention again. "I think our generation could be the first generation to actually enact a peaceful agenda. I believe that cooperation between all of us is the only way to truly cement Arkadia's place in this rebuilt world."

"How do you plan on imposing this peaceful agenda on the Blake faction?" Landell questioned, his eyes narrowed. Clarke believed him to be an optimist and humanitarian but he understood the massive amount of work it would take to achieve this kind of peace.

"I plan on being honest," Clarke shrugged, not considering how exactly she'd do this. She knew she had to convince others to side with her and so far, she didn't think she was doing a good enough job. "Enough of the back-door deals and continuous infighting," she continued, glancing about them at the statues they were walking between. "Let's hammer out a binding deal that cements a national agenda, not just a cluster of family demands."

"And if the Blake's, Green's, and McIntyre's don't agree?" Landell questioned, stopping in front of an ornately framed tapestry. "How are you going to convince them to give up on three generations of fighting?" He sounded doubtful now, his eyes soft but stern. He just didn't understand what she was talking about and Clarke felt somewhat disappointed. "I appreciate your conviction and your ethical standards but it's sounding like a pipe-dream."

"It may seem that way," Clarke whispered, her temper flaring slightly. "But that is because no one wants to sincerely give it a chance. Why loose hundreds of Arkadians a year to violence between factions? Why so much pointless violence and death? It just breeds more animosity and fuels revenge."

"I agree," Landell nodded, his tone apologetic. "I've seen first-hand the violence on my own estates and within the ranks of the military. I was also an arena fighter; I personally know how this rivalry effects people." Clarke looked back up at him now, the softness and despair in his voice drawing her attention. He was a contradiction and Clarke was fascinated. He was an intimidating man, his voice deep and his reputation awe-inspiring but a shy and thoughtful man stood in front of her with bright piercing amber eyes. Those amber orbs were far off somewhere, in his past, remembering unfortunate events and rekindling the emotions that come with them.

"Maybe it's time someone does something about all of it," Clarke commented, smiling up at him gently. "Will you support me? Will you help me stop the violence, corruption, and death?"

"I've never been a pessimist," Landell finally smiled, mulling over her words. He then turned them back toward the main room, maintaining an even pace. He seemed a bit hesitant, tempering his words before speaking again. "I won't hinder you if the benefit remains mutual; if we happen to develop our relationship further I would be fair and understanding. I don't appreciate dirty tricks or cruelty so if you can respect that, I see no problems."

"I can respect that," Clarke assured, squeezing his arm before finishing her drink and setting it on a passing tray. "I can also respect your experiences and your judgement. If there is one thing you must know about me is that I won't play dirty tricks to get what I want. Maybe that is naïve but like you, I've never been a pessimist."

"Maybe one day we can work out a solution together," he smiled, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. "I can honestly say that you stand out as a suitor already. I've been to benefits before but never one as interesting as this."

"So, if you don't mind me asking, why haven't you married?" Clarke questioned, looking up at him directly. "I hope that isn't a rude question but you're 21, right?"

"I've had some girlfriends, serious and not," he admitted, another slight blush on his cheek as her arm tightened on his. "But I've been too focused on my career and family to really think about anything like marriage."

"Something we have in common," Clarke shrugged, grimacing up at him. "I mean, I've thought about marriage and the future of my family since I was old enough to understand the importance but I've put off actually looking until now."

"So, now that we understand each other a little better," Landell grinned, looking down at her softly. "I'm going to risk sounding cliché. I just have to say that you look absolutely stunning tonight."

Clarke could feel the blush rise in her cheeks as he looked over her strapless dress slowly. She was aware of his gaze on her curves and the way the dress showed off her bust, making her look away as she squeezed his forearm gently. "Thank you," she replied, admiring the golden glimmer in his amber eyes as she looked up into them.

"You have the bluest eyes I've ever seen," he admitted, looking down at his feet now, escorting her through a crowd near the entrance of the gallery. "Would you like a dance?"

Clarke felt like the time spent dancing with Landell was far too short. Only a couple of songs had passed and they'd spoken about many different things in that timeframe. Clarke didn't even notice the people watching or the arrivals in the gallery as they danced, her eyes always on his. It was the most fun she'd had speaking to someone in a while. Landell spoke about his favorite foods, music, and his favorite spots outside the city. He loved the countryside, riding, and like Clarke, he was an artist. He insisted he wasn't very good but enjoyed doing landscapes when he had time to relax. He also enjoyed hunting, something Clarke wasn't expecting. She wasn't opposed to it but she didn't think he was that kind of sportsmen.

It was when Raven had caught her attention that Clarke pulled away from Landell, his arms holding her close the entire time they'd danced. She excused herself, assuring him they would speak again soon, and went to Raven. She was standing with Finn, who'd shown up without Clarke noticing. Finn only waved, smiling as Raven tucked her arm into his.

"So, how did it go?" Raven asked, a knowing grin on her face.

"Great," Clarke replied, smirking back at her.

"You ladies are up to something," Finn commented, looking between them. "And I'm the third wheel. Tell me what is going on."

"Girl stuff," Raven quipped, kissing his cheek. "There were quite a few arrivals while you were dancing. Wells and his family are around here somewhere as is his cousin Nate. Kayden and Aurora Blake also arrived with the Green's and McIntyre's. The Murphy family wasn't far behind."

"I see we weren't the only ones who were fashionably late," Clarke smiled, looking about the crowd. She almost instantly spotted Bellamy and his family, standing near a tapestry and talking amongst themselves. She didn't even bother looking away when Bellamy's dark eyes found hers. She just smirked slightly and turned to look for her own parents. She was about to walk over to them as they spoke with Thelonious and his family, when a familiar set of blue eyes captured hers. Jon Murphy was standing near one of the sculptures near the entrance to the ancient's gallery, watching her with a knowing smirk on his face. He knew she had spotted him and after leaving Raven and Finn to their own dance, she made her way through the crowd toward him.

"I see you've been enjoying the ball, princess," Jon commented, his arms crossed over his chest, adorned in the Murphy signature black trimmed with orange.

"I see you've finally showed up," Clarke replied, stopping before him. "I wasn't sure if I'd have a chance to speak to you tonight. Where's Kat?"

"Somewhere around here, no doubt with Jasper," Jon said, glancing about. "She insisted that he escort her tonight. My father wasn't pleased; I had to hear it the entire way here."

"Lucky Kat," Clarke said, a grimace on her face. Jon only looked down at her, confusion knitting his brow. "To have such a protective and understanding older brother," Clarke continued, pushing an escaped lock of hair over her ear. "I'm glad we get to speak privately."

"Perhaps we should share a dance then," Jon suggested, holding out his hand. "To speak more privately."

Clarke looked up at him surprised, her eyes wide for a moment before a grin spread across her face. "Are you joking? You mocking me?"

"I never joke about dancing," he quipped, a twinkle in his eye and a grin on his lips. "It is one of my few talents."

"Are you always this sure of yourself?" Clarke asked, crossing her own arms. "Or is this your attempt to make yourself look better."

"I have no need to impress," Jon shrugged, looking over the dancefloor. "But I am sure that my dance skills would impress you."

"Is that a wager?" Clarke asked, analyzing his response.

"It could be," he smiled, his hair falling in his face as he looked down at her. "What are we wagering? We both have enough money so I don't think that would be any fun."

"If you impress me on the dance floor, I'll tell you a secret," Clarke grinned, eyeing him closely. "And if you don't, you'll have to tell me a secret."

"Wagering with secrets," he chuckled, pushing his hair out of his face. "I like it. You're more interesting than I expected."

"Is it a deal?" Clarke asked, her eyes narrowing. He looked back at her, the same determined look before nodding, a smile spreading over his high cheeks.

"Alright, I'll be sure to impress you then," he insisted, taking her hand before she could stop him. His blue eyes were alight with determination and Clarke could tell he was sure of himself in that moment. She allowed him to escort her, hands clasped, to the dance floor. Clarke pretended not to notice the few eyes that watched as they walked hand-in-hand. It was almost amusing to her and for a brief moment, she saw a mirrored look of amusement in Jon's face.

The music played on, an upbeat classical piece perfect for them to dance at a faster pace than Clarke had previously danced with Landell. She nearly gasped when Jon spun her around to face him, pressing against one another as he rested his other hand on her lower back. Clarke was already impressed, her eyes wide as he moved her around the dancefloor. She didn't even realize that they were waltzing, the speed almost invisible as she watched his eyes, alight with enjoyment and victory. He knew he'd won the moment he made this bet and Clarke didn't care. She needed an excuse to talk to him privately. She was having a lot of fun dancing with Jon around the floor, spinning and laughing as he playfully joked with her.

"It seems we have an audience," Jon said, bowing as the song ended, more people coming to the dancefloor to enjoy the next waltz. Clarke curtseyed back, taking his hand again as they walked away from the newly dancing crowd.

"We are an intriguing couple," Clarke admitted, her hand moving to rest on his forearm as she looped her arm through his. "More intriguing because we are trading in secrets."

"I'm curious about what secret you'll divulge to me," Jon admitted, grinning over at her as he led her through the small crowd toward the stairs to the second floor. "A princess like you doesn't seem to have many scandals surrounding her."

"That is why they are secrets," Clarke admitted, squeezing his arm. "If there were a scandal, it wouldn't be a secret."

"Witty princess," Jon laughed, stopping near a painting at the top of the stairs, looking at it and then back at Clarke. There was no one on the upper landing at the moment, all of the guests enjoying the drinks and dancing down below. "So, tell me your secret."

"I am looking for a suitor," Clarke said, her voice even and her eyes intense as she looked up at him. "And I am considering you."

Jon's blue eyes were alight with amusement and that familiar confidence of victory. He only looked back at her, the skepticism overcoming him as he contemplated her words. After a few moments, he let go of her arm, turning to face her fully.

"Out of all the eligible bachelors, you'd consider me?" he asked, his eyes narrowed. "We both know you're smarter than that."

"Not just you," she retorted, her pride showing through. "Don't be so cocky."

"I see, so the real secret is you're considering several suitors," Jon winked, the amusement in his voice overshadowing the disappointment. "But I don't see how that is a secret. Everyone knows the only Griffin heiress will be seeking suitors."

"The secret is that you are on my list," she grinned, looking at the painting. "You don't want to be?"

"Am I at the top of the list?" he smirked, looking at the painting again. "And who else is on this prestigious list?"

"I could be persuaded to tell you," she nodded, crossing her arms. "In exchange for your help."

"You're asking me for help?" he asked, his voice full of sarcasm and doubt. "With suitors?"

"No, not with suitors," she laughed, turning back to him now. "I have some big ideas and I could use your help turning them into reality."

"You're full of interesting proposals," he quipped, turning to her again, glancing down at the crowd below. "Tell me, what are your grand plans?"

"Peace," Clarke shrugged, glancing up at him to gauge his reaction. He looked entirely doubtful, an amused smirk on his face "Our ancestors didn't fight this hard for us to kill one another once we reached the ground," Clarke pointed, trying to find the right words to convince him. "I want peace between factions and I'm going to need a lot of help to do it."

"I knew you were an optimist and perhaps a bit delusional but I never imagined you were this dumb," he laughed, shaking his head. "Peace? After three generations of vendettas and grudges? I think you've got a god-complex, princess."

"I've never done you, nor your family, any wrong," Clarke said, looking him in the eye, that familiar feeling of anger flaring in her chest. "And until I choose a suitor, I'm virtually powerless."

"Do you even know what drives us to fight?" Jon asked, eyeing her skeptically. "We claim that it is to control the masses, the herd them into one corner or the other but we are smarter than that. Year in and year out our families fight for supremacy in both the government and military but you don't see the world like I do. You don't' see the profit being made from this kind of bloodshed and fear. And what would you know of the true Arkadia? The princess doesn't belong in the slums, in the underground of Arkadia."

"It's more than that," she huffed, stepping toward him, a couple coming up the stairs and walking around them toward a tapestry. "The gangs are the ones who incite violence but on the orders of the families they are paid by," Clarke whispered, her eyes meeting his as they languidly looked her over. "I know more than you think, Jon."

"Such deep and ambitious questions," Jon smiled, looking her over again. "But I suppose you have the answers for these problems?"

"We are the future leaders of our families," Clarke shrugged, her jaw set. "What do you think we should do about this?"

"I see where you're going," he replied, stopping her. He had a knowing look in his eyes and a sinister smirk on his lips. "You want peace between factions and an end to the death. You'd rather we focus on our quality of living and our similarities rather than our differences. You want us to agree on a cohesive plan that benefits all our families. The real question is, how you plan on overcoming over thirty years of hatred?"

"I have some ideas," Clarke retorted, hearing the condescending tone in his voice. She was expecting his mockery but she wasn't prepared for the direct insight he had into her plan.

"Is this where your list of suitors come in?" He had a coy grin on his face, looking her over with intense interest.

"I may tell you more about the list," she shrugged, turning from him now. "But as I've said before; I need your help."

"I'm on your list because I'm an eligible suitor from an opposing house," he commented, understanding her meaning. "And by asking for my help with your grand plan, you're really asking me if I'll interfere. You're also taking a risk revealing your hand."

"From great risk comes great reward," Clarke quoted, crossing her arms. "I'm an honest person and I appreciate honest answers. Just tell me the truth; would you be opposed to peace between families?"

"So blunt," Jon smirked. "The princess does indeed have fangs. Tell me, what would you say if I didn't agree? What would you say if I wanted to share your plan?"

"I'd say that you may want to rethink your choice," she replied, placing her hands on her hips. "I may not have much power now but I do know that an ideal marriage for both you and your sister is important. I also know that there is also greater profit in working for both sides. You're smarter than that and I think you're far too independent to depend on other people, including the Blake's.

"Sharp fangs," Jon retorted, the distaste in his voice evident. "You think you know all the facts, don't you?"

"I seek peace," Clarke assured, squaring her jaw. "I'd never presume to demean your intelligence but clearly you don't see the benefits of peace. Your loyalty is commendable but is that all you want to be? A Blake lackey?"

"You cut right through the thick of it," Jon sighed, his eyes finding hers. "You think you know me so well? It's true, I could see peace as a solution," Jon smiled, looking back over the people talking and dancing below. Clarke could tell she'd hit the right nerve, making him reconsider her words. "I could see Arkadia expanding and becoming the dominant power even over the Coalition. However, what I can't see is the end-game." He turned to look at her closely, his eyes narrowed. "What happens when all your plans come to fruition? What then? Monarchy? A republic? Dictatorship under the Griffin family?"

Clarke paused at this, realizing she hadn't really considered it. She'd always pictured the council still ruling over Arkadia, even as it expanded. She hadn't considered that notion to be foolish but now she was having doubts. The look of confusion and loss on her face must have been evident because Jon just chuckled, placing his hand on her shoulder.

"I get it," Jon admitted, his voice a little softer; no joking tone this time. "I understand what you're trying to achieve. I just don't think you know how to achieve it. And even if you could achieve it, you don't have a plan for what comes after. Do you really think a council will be able to consolidate all that power without becoming corrupt?"

"They are already corrupt," she retorted, her eyes alight with indignation. "Does that mean you won't support me?"

"I won't betray your plans," he smirked, turning back around to stare down at the people below. "But you have to tell me who is on this list of yours."

"I'll tell you but first, tell me why you would decide to keep my confidence?"

"I have my reasons," Jon replied, his eyes not meeting hers. "The most important of them being that you're a future council member. A friendship between our two families could benefit us both. And as you said earlier, I don't like relying on other people; I consider this to be another step toward independence."

"This match could also harm you," Clarke warned. "After all, everyone knows the Blake family raised yours up to prominence. Everyone sees the Murphy family as the Blake's closest ally."

"I like to keep my options open," he joked, the twinkle returning to his eye. "I've been competing with Bellamy Blake since I was old enough to walk. I think keeping my options open on both sides of the aisle would suit me best. After all, we're trading in secrets; a little tit-for-tat never hurt anyone…"

"It would give you an edge because you'll know something he doesn't," Clarke grinned, deciding to divulge her list to him. He just chuckled, glancing back over his shoulder at her as he leaned on the railing of the landing. "It's a small list," Clarke continued, moving to look over the balcony as well. "Landell Pike, Jon Murphy, and Bellamy Blake," she whispered, finding a familiar head of curly black hair. She watched Bellamy for a moment before turning to see that Jon had turned from the balcony and was staring down at her intently. She could see something click in his mind and saw a slight flare in his eyes before he nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. Clarke could have sworn she saw annoyance but his smile quickly replaced those emotions.

"Good choices," he admitted, his shoulders rising and falling in approval. "Is that the order of the list?"

"It is," Clarke admitted, glancing over the balcony at the people below. "Some options are more appealing than others," she admitted, a smirk forming. "To be honest, the order of the list is always changing."

"The decision is entirely in your hands," Jon nodded, glancing at her face before turning to rest his elbows on the bannister, leaning so that way he was level with Clarke's face. "But I will give you one piece of information you may find useful. The suitors on the list will not give you any trouble. All of them, including Bellamy Blake, would welcome your affections."

"How would you know that?" she asked, her eyes wide. She then realized that he was also speaking of himself and blushed, looking over the balcony to try and collect herself.

"Because someone else has suggested these suitors," he admitted, looking a bit guilty. "I thought they were just logical guesses but I think there is more to it."

"Really?' she questioned, narrowing her eyes. "I don't understand. No one knows about the list except my own mother and my best friend. How could you know of the list?"

"I shouldn't tell you but in the spirit of fairness," he nodded, offering his arm again as he straightened himself. "I'll give you a hint."

"I think I know who it is," Clarke reasoned, her nose wrinkling in distaste. "And it really wouldn't be hard to guess the list. I'm actually disappointed that you didn't suspect yourself to be on the list."

"In all honesty," Jon quipped, smiling down at her. "I hadn't given you or any sort of list a single thought until I saw you with my sister yesterday."

"It's a pretty obvious list," Clarke admitted, feeling a smile spread over her lips. "But I'll give your friend this; he isn't stupid."

Clarke took Jon's arm and allowed him to escort her back down the stairs, her mind turning the thought over in her head. She wasn't angry but she didn't think Bellamy would act so quickly. She didn't think anyone would go through this much work, or prep, until after tonight. This couldn't have been a coincidence and the longer she thought about it, the more muddled her thoughts became. Jon must have noticed her confusion, her silence consistent as they descended the stairs. When they reached the bottom, he stopped them, his hand going to her cheek and grazing it with the back of his index finger. She quickly looked up at him now, the shock and awe at such a familiar gesture breaking her from her thoughts.

"Listen, I may not be afraid to get my hands dirty but I wouldn't take advantage of an opponent's handicap," he confessed, not looking away from her. There was something about the tightness in his jaw and the conflict swirling in his eyes that made Clarke curious. "That's why I agreed talk with you tonight; my plan wasn't to seduce you but to learn more about you for Bellamy's sake. That is also why I decided to tell you that he had already guessed your list." Jon must have seen the surprise and confusion etched into her own features because he shook his head, a sincere grimace forming on his pointed face. "Don't misunderstand; he is my best friend but I have a feeling he'd use me if it meant getting you to agree to marry him. He'd use all of us; he knows how to manipulate people and he is dangerously ambitious."

"I've been pressured to give him a chance more than once," Clarke sighed, her eyes drifting down to Jon's chest, not willing to look back up at him now. She felt ashamed; she couldn't understand why Jon would want to help someone like Bellamy. He just didn't seem like someone who enjoyed hurting people; not the way Bellamy did. "I know he is my biggest threat but I've always believed people can be redeemed," she admitted, biting her lip. "He really makes me question that belief. Marriage is a lifetime with someone and sharing children with them isn't a small matter."

"Don't start doubting yourself, princess," Jon replied, squeezing her hand on his arm as he smirked down at her. Clarke looked up into his ice blue eyes at that moment and saw a look of determination and authority. "Don't let him get to you. You're someone who sees things in an entirely different light, thinking of things no one else is even aware of. That's a powerful advantage, so use it."

"You're being awfully helpful," Clarke replied, smiling up at him, inspired by his reaction to her dilemma. "It may be that you're a misjudged person but I don't see the villain people like to paint. I've heard rumors but the Jon Murphy standing here with me isn't that man at all. It makes me wonder if you're just telling me what I want to hear."

"I honestly don't care what you want to hear," Jon replied, a playful challenge in his voice. "I am who I am; I won't change that for anyone."

"Then I think we may have something in common," Clarke nodded, her voice low but playful. "I know who I am but now I'm entirely curious about who the real Jon Murphy is. I'm also curious about why he wouldn't want to help himself over a friend's blind ambition."

"No worries princess," he chuckled, squeezing her hand one last time. "I play fair."

"As do I," she assured, smiling back up at him. She couldn't help but admire his sincerity and light-hearted tone. He would be an ideal ally and if she could convince him to help her, perhaps even as a suitor, she could prove to him that her plans were achievable. She also wanted to see him without his mask of humor and detachment. She wanted to see him genuinely emotional to judge whether he was the man she believed him to be. There was something about Jon Murphy that Clarke just didn't see yet and every moment she spent with him made her more determined to find out what it was.

"There you are," came a voice and Clarke looked over to see Raven approaching her, Finn standing over by Wells and Landell Pike. "We've been waiting for you to reappear. Care to join us?"

"Ah," Jon chuckled, stepping away from Clarke and glancing over at Finn and the others. He looked between Clarke and Raven before inclining his head to them, a knowing twinkle in his eye. "That would be my que; have fun princess." He smirked at Clarke before turning from them, striding toward his sister and Jasper.

"How did that go?" Raven whispered, motioning for her to follow toward their group of friends.

"Better than I could have imagined," Clarke whispered, motioning for Raven to stop. "He told me that Bellamy Blake knows about my list. I'm not sure how he could know but I have a feeling Jon knows more than he's saying."

"And you're sure Murphy isn't playing with you?"

"Even if he is, he thinks he hasn't raised my suspicion," Clarke nodded. "I'm on guard but I'm not sure what to do now. Jon made a good point; I have no end game for my plans. I have no answer for what comes after peace is achieved."

"What do you mean?" Raven asked, her eyebrows raised. "You want peace between families and on the council. What more do we need?"

"He made a valid point," Clarke sighed, looking over at Wells, Finn, and Landell as they spoke amongst themselves. "Could the council still stay in-tact if peace is won?"

"I don't see why not," Raven shrugged, lowering her voice and stepping closer to Clarke. "You're overthinking. The council will work better than it ever has if peace is reached. You just need to hammer out the details with those in power and you're already half-way there with many of them."

"But the people," Clarke groaned, remembering Jon's comment about the underground of Arkadia. "Gangs have been recruiting from the poor and making the common people suffer for years. That sort of animosity between people isn't so easily controlled or forgiven. I have to have some sort of plan."

"You can't figure this all out on your own," Raven sighed, placing a hand on Clarke's shoulder. "I'll help you and so will everyone else when their convinced it can be done. One step at a time."

"You're right, as usual," Clarke groaned, taking a deep breath before looking over at Landell. "What has he said?"

"He's been talking with Finn and Wells the whole night," Raven grinned. "Mostly about trade negotiations and the arena. Nothing too revealing; he seems to have a good heart though. He and Wells are agreeing on many key issues so, I guess that is something."

"Then I should speak to him again," Clarke nodded, Raven glancing over at him before glancing over Clarke's shoulder. Clarke noticed the look in her eyes and paused, whispering softly to her friend. "What is it?"

"Bellamy, Monty, and Jasper are all staring at us," Raven replied, turning back around. "Your dance and disappearance with Murphy has caught the attention of almost everyone here. You'd do well to keep a low profile the rest of the night."

"That's not my intention," Clarke smirked. "I never said I'd keep a low profile and I never said this would be boring. I have yet to talk to Bellamy tonight. I could imagine the buzz about the gallery if we were to share a dance."

"It was expected of you and Landell but Murphy was quite the attention-grabber," Raven smirked, grabbing a drink for each of them from a passing waiter. She handed Clarke her drink and they both sipped slowly.

"So, let's go speak with Landell again," Clarke suggested, a grin forming on her face. "Let's see where this leads."

Both women walked over to the group of men, each of them with a drink in their hand and a smile on their face. Raven and Clarke could hear that they were talking about the arena and their past exploits.

"I watched your match four years ago and thought it was one of the best I'd ever seen," Finn replied, pointing at Landell. "You should have stuck with it; you could have been a champion."

"It was fun and Sedulus was a difficult opponent," Landell said, his eyes finding Clarke as they approached. "But I've found a peaceful satisfaction in country life."

"I'm just glad you were elected to the Guild Council," Wells admitted. "Working with you is always a real treat. You don't sit back like most of the younger councilmen and heed your elders. You speak your mind and raise questions that those smug old bats must answer. It's always a fun time to see them struggling to come up with excuses."

"It sounds so boring," Finn admitted, taking a drink from his glass. "Why would you enjoy that over the arena? At least in the arena, you know who your enemy is."

"It's a greater challenge for me," Landell admitted. "I like standing up to those old goats and telling them how it is. I love ruining their plans too but sometimes it is good to allow them a win."

"This is supposed to be a party," Raven chimed, glancing at Finn. "You three are the worst conversationalists I know."

"I think it is interesting," Clarke shrugged. "It's not like we all get the chance to get together and discuss these things anyway. It'd be a good way to get to know one another."

"You win the argument almost every time anyway," Wells pointed, making Clarke smirk. "She's tough to argue with, even on her good days."

"And you're not?" Raven asked, laughing at Wells. "Between you and Clarke, I don't know who is more stubborn."

"Depends on the topic," Wells retorted, making Finn cough over his wine.

"I find Clarke's honesty and straightforward boldness to be a breath of fresh air," Landell reasoned. "Though, I do admit she seems a bit too idealistic; a bit excitable too."

"Hey now," Clarke chuckled, shaking her head. "I'm an optimist; a rare breed in Arkadia."

"Very rare," Finn chuckled, looking about the room. "It seems that everyone is here but where in the world is the entertainment. Wasn't there supposed to be a performance or something?"

"I believe there was to be an orchestral piece and a singer," Raven nodded, looking over the crowds.

"I haven't seen Nate since we got here," Wells chimed in, taking a sip from his cup. "He's the official host of this benefit. He's on the board at the university and here at the museum. I don't know where he could be…"

"There he is," Raven pointed behind Clarke, finishing her drink and setting it on waiter's tray. There, standing in the crowd with Jon, Bellamy, Monty, and Jasper was Nate. They were all talking and laughing and Clarke could see the sideways glance Bellamy gave her. She immediately stiffened, turning back around to look up at Landell, noticing that he too was watching her.

"How was your dance with Jon Murphy?" Landell asked, his voice barely above a whisper as the others argued amongst themselves on what Nate could be doing.

"Enlightening," Clarke admitted, stepping closer so he could hear her better over the music and the chatter.

"You're playing an interesting game," he replied, his voice a mix of surprise and warning.

"This is the hand I have to play," Clarke replied, a wide grin on her face. "Besides, developing a friendship is more important at this moment."

"Bold," Landell admitted, offering his arm to her. She took it and stood next to him, watching the dance floor as couples spun and swayed to the slow ambient music. Clarke pretended not to notice the looks she was getting from Bellamy and the others or the warning looks Raven was shooting her. Clarke didn't care; she wanted everyone to know that she had options and she had control. She wanted everyone, including Bellamy, to know that this was her decision to make.

"Looks like the music is dying off," Wells commented, looking over at Landell and Clarke. "I don't know who the singer or orchestra is but they are starting to set up on the dancefloor soon."

"I can't believe they didn't include a performance announcement with this benefit," Raven commented, looking over at Finn. "Did you hear anything?"

"Just because I donate doesn't mean I know everything," Finn chuckled, shaking his head.

"Should be interesting," Clarke admitted, looking over the men and women coming in with chairs and cases. She finished the rest of her wine and, like Raven, discarded her glass on a waiter's tray, curiously watching the scene unfold. The staff were starting to set up music stands and a handful of men were pushing a piano in from one of the offices. It wasn't a big piano but as they pushed it into place and set up the bench, Clarke noticed that Nate was still adamantly talking to Bellamy, both in a heated discussion that Clarke couldn't quite place. Neither of them were mad but they both seemed to be quarrelling over something.

"Clarke," Landell whispered, gaining her attention. She looked up at him and he just grinned, leaning closer to her face. Clarke could immediately feel the heat from his body as he got closer, his amber eyes meeting hers. He'd almost turned completely away from Raven and the others and loomed over Clarke curiously, like an inquisitive animal debating on what should be done. Clarke didn't mind though; she wasn't afraid of Landell and talking to him intimately could be enriching. "You've been getting looks all night but more-so from Bellamy than anyone else. Is this part of your plan too?"

"It's not intended," Clarke admitted, feeling a sort of pleasure from his eyes being on her. "But it seems he's taken an interest in my plans."

"I would say so," Landell whispered, never looking away from her. His hand was on hers now as she grasped his forearm, still interlocked at the elbows. "Tell me truthfully; is that really my competition?"

"This isn't a competition," Clarke hissed, her eyes narrowed slightly. "I'm not a prize or trophy for either of you."

"You can believe that if you'd like," Landell shrugged, leaning back slightly. "But you've made it quite clear to everyone here that you're considering suitors. What else could this be but competition?"

"It may seem that way but the real winner is me," Clarke retorted, feeling his hand squeeze hers over his arm.

"Then you can see why I'm not exactly willing to be a part of this game," Landell pointed. "Plots, intrigues, and schemes aren't my way and I still don't see what I am gaining from this."

"You are an ideal choice," Clarke admitted, making him chuckle. "But you have to see it from my point of view as well. Choosing you would just be the same-old policy and outcome."

"And you're seeing this from my side as well?" Landell asked, doubt evident in his voice. "I don't think you are. I'm not a piece of meat at market; I have plans and feelings too and I don't appreciate being treated like an ideal choice. Being with you doesn't seem as advantageous as you made it sound."

"I'm sorry if I offended you but I cannot love someone after one conversation," Clarke scoffed, making his eyes go wide. They stared at each other for a moment but then she felt his hand on her hip, making her inhale sharply. She wasn't expecting him to be so intimate with her and she immediately felt exposed, vulnerable. This is the first time she'd encountered anything like this.

"So, that's what you're really after?" he asked, a twinkle in his bright eyes. "You're looking for love."

"There is more to a match than convenience and alliances," Clarke replied, her voice low, her hand going to his on her hip. "I want more to life than that for myself and my children. It's the bigger picture here; not all this petty social climbing."

"Is that so?" Landell inquired, an intense look on his face as if he's seen something fascinating or mind-blowing. He was looking at her with such intensity that Clarke could have sworn his eyes almost glowed.

"Yes," she replied, her voice quieter, a little timid. Landell noticed and immediately backed away from her, his hand leaving her hip and his other hand loosening around her arm. He was staring at the ground now, facing the dancefloor as before.

"I'm sorry," Landell sighed, a slight blush coming over his face. "I'm not a fan of all these plots and I don't want to be part of someone else's game. I'm a very protective man…"

"No need to apologize," Clarke said, gaining his attention again. "But now you know the game. You know what is at stake for me and you know what I want. You have me at a disadvantage."

"I'd never betray your trust," he admitted, squaring his shoulders. "I'm more honorable than that. I'm just passionate about those that I care about and an alliance with your family would strengthen our own security. I wouldn't have to fear for the future of my family, including my own children." He glanced over at her now, his eyes once again soft and steady. "So, when you said you wanted more from life for your children, I didn't want to believe you because that is exactly what I want."

Clarke looked up at him, enthralled by the sincere look in his eyes and the way his voice had changed to a low, almost lulling rumble. She wanted to believe him and he seemed convincing but Clarke couldn't help but remain cautious. She still considered all scenarios, all possible avenues, and Landell telling her exactly what she wanted to hear was entirely possible.

Just then the lights dimmed and Clarke immediately turned to the dancefloor. There were a dozen chairs set up in a semi-circular pattern with men and women, dressed in white, holding instruments. The black piano stood out against the white players and sitting at the piano, in his black and deep blue formal jacket, was Bellamy Blake. He stood out amongst all of them as the conductor, a man who frequently held concerts in Arkadia for benefits and plays, came out onto the dance floor. He bowed to the crowd who began to clap, the cascade of sound echoing in the vaulted glass ceiling above them.

* * *

 **More intrigue and more plots! R &R please. **


	7. Chapter 7: Solo

**Much love to you reader. Enjoy and please R &R.**

* * *

Clarke didn't look away as the man stepped up to a music stand, waved his baton, and began tuning the orchestra. Bellamy sat there at the bench and pressed a key, the entire orchestra tuning to his chord. He looked entirely different than he had the other night. The cocky grin had left his face, the pompous swagger in his demeanor gone as he sat behind that piano. His back was straight, his hands poised perfectly over the keys as the composer waved his baton. The room went silent and Clarke swore she could hear her own heart beating.

The piano was soft, leading, repeating the tune before transitioning into one of the most beautiful songs Clarke had ever heard. It was Chopin and Bellamy was in complete control as the orchestra lulled in the background. It was one of Clarke's favorite pieces as well; Nocturne Number 20. As it escalated and the tempo began to lull, she could see the concentration and sway in Bellamy's body as he played the complicated piece. He looked so at home in that moment that Clarke couldn't tear her eyes away from him. She watched observantly as the song continued on, seeing the changes in his eyes as the song's tempo and measure changed. It was something straight out of a fairy tale and he seemed so in tune with the piano that Clarke could only see it as an extension of himself. As the song faded and he played that lingering note, Clarke could see the whole room physically take a breath. Then it came again and Clarke could see the relief and awe in the faces about the room as he played. The song strung on, harsher now, more whimsical, and Clarke couldn't recall hearing it played like this before. It was full of emotion and soul.

When it finally faded, Clarke could see the disappointment but before anyone could clap, he began playing another famous song that was accompanied lightly by the rest of the orchestra. It was Beethoven's Fur Elise and the sound echoed throughout the gallery, transporting everyone somewhere entirely different. Bellamy played furiously, quickly, but then rhythmically, his concentration never breaking. Clarke was entirely unsure if this was the real Bellamy Blake, putting a spell over this audience. and she couldn't help herself. She began to feel tears well in her eyes and pushed them back, not realizing that she was clutching Landell's arm rather tightly. She loosened and looked up at him briefly to see a sheepish smile on his face. He too was enjoying the performance.

As the orchestra played on, Bellamy the center of it all, Clarke couldn't help but think that this wasn't just coincidence. He was playing for everyone to see and Clarke knew what he meant when he played. It may have been a special treat for guests or a way to show off his skill, either way, Clarke knew what he really meant by playing these pieces. It was only when Beethoven faded and Tchaikovsky emerged did Clarke fully grasp the intensity of the situation. This was a direct challenge to her; the great composer's song was unfamiliar to Clarke but it wasn't a mixed message. He was telling her, and everyone else, that he also had choices that were his to make. Despite what Clarke wanted to plan or do, he had his own agenda and he wasn't going to back down. Even as the slow and quiet intro lulled the audience into awe, the loud percussion and foreboding tempo suggested otherwise. As they played on, Bellamy providing the keystone, the rest of the orchestra came alive. Swaying, jerking, and producing the most amazing and passionate performance of the night.

Even as the marching of the trumpets grew louder and louder, she could see Bellamy's concentration and satisfaction as he played. This wasn't just something for him to show off with; he truly loved playing the piano. She could see it plain as day, as if his soul was reaching out to her to tell her everything he wanted to say. The longer she watched, as the piece went on with waiters offering trays of drinks to the audience, the more intense it became. She knew this piece wasn't short and when the fifteen minutes had passed, she could see the small shine of sweat on Bellamy's brow as he finished with the final key. The audience clapped loudly, some whistling and others cheering but Bellamy stayed on the bench until the composer turned and raised his hands. Like a well-trained military unit, they all stood, bowed, and the audience became louder, praising the orchestra for their renditions.

To Clarke's disappointment, and surprise, Bellamy didn't look at her once. He stepped away from the piano and back into the crowd to his friends. Nate, however, embraced him happily before moving to the center of the dance-floor himself. He was waving at the audience as they clapped for their host. Then they drew silent, Clarke only glancing over in Bellamy's direction to see him whispering to Jasper before turning his attention to Nate.

"Thank you everyone!" Nate said, waving for them to be silent. "As you just saw, our special guest tonight as part of the orchestral performance was Mr. Bellamy Blake!" The crowd cheered politely at this and then fell silent as Nate continued. "And now, I present to you the beautiful Miss Cassandra Kane with her rendition of Memory, as made famous by the musical Cats."

There was another set of applause and Clarke grinned, thinking of the soft and sad tune as a familiar face emerged from the crowd in a long white dress. She waved sheepishly, kissed Nate on the cheek, and then waited for the few orchestra members to accompany her. They all sat down, adjusted, and waited for a signal from the conductor, who had stood to the side waiting for them to be placed.

Clarke was touched at how beautifully her voice resonated over the soft violin and cello. The lyrics were touching and Clarke glanced over at Cassandra's parents who both had unshed tears in their eyes as they watched their daughter. It was stirring and Clarke couldn't help but squeeze Landell's arm gently. He looked down at her and followed her gaze, a smile forming as he squeezed her hand back. They both stood in awe as she sung, her voice so beautiful that Clarke couldn't imagine hearing another singer's version. It was when she was finished and the applause had died down that the orchestra set their instruments in their laps, the conductor holding out his hand as Bellamy once again came out of the crowd, waving sincerely at the clapping and cheering.

He then sat down at the piano, nodding at the conductor before playing the next piece. Clarke felt almost flabbergasted at the choice of the piece as the piano started to play in alone. It seemed this would be a duet between voice and piano and Clarke could feel a little bit of excitement rushing around the room as the famous song took form. Cassandra's voice was so melodic and it fit the tune so beautifully. Bellamy, like Cassandra, was playing in tune, attentive to the tempo and key.

It was a famous piece from the late twentieth century that Clarke adored. "Your Song" by Elton John was his most famous piece and Clarke frequently listened to it in her free time. It didn't strike Clarke as a coincidence that this was another song Bellamy was playing that night. It also didn't strike her as possible that he'd planned this far ahead. Regardless, Clarke enjoyed the piece, Cassandra putting her own personality into the song and transfixing the audience who, for the most part, sang along. It was a sight to be seen and Clarke couldn't help but mouth the words as well.

When the song ended, there was a final applause and the orchestra and performers bowed one more time to the crowd before the staff came in to help move the chairs and piano from the dance floor. Clarke refused to look at Bellamy and instead, turned to Landell and the others who looked just as excited and interested in the performance as she had been.

"Well," Finn commented, downing the rest of his wine. "I was not expecting that. Who knew Bellamy Blake could play piano like that."

"Who knew he could play piano?" Wells asked, looking about. "Did you?"

"I'd heard it rumored but never gave it any thought," Raven laughed, sipping from her wineglass. "But wow, that was great."

"Nate could have told me," Wells chuckled, waving at his cousin who had spotted him from across the room. He turned to Bellamy and his friends, bid them goodbye, and made his way toward Clarke and the others. Clarke could see the curious looks from the others and the way Bellamy glanced over at her and she quickly turned her attention back to Wells, who was smiling knowingly at his cousin.

"Nate!" he called, and Nate chuckled, approaching them with a wave.

"How did you like the entertainment?" Nate asked, looking between them all. "Surprising, wasn't it?"

"Very," Raven admitted. "Did you know he could play?"

"I did," he chuckled. "I've known Bellamy, Jon, Monty, and Jasper since the academy. We play poker occasionally and drink together. They're always at my parties…"

"You could have told the rest of us," Finn laughed. "The vision of Blake on the battlefield has been somewhat diminished for me."

"You'd be stupid to underestimate him," Raven reasoned, laughing at Finn's comment. "It just means he's disciplined, especially if he can play like that."

"He's played since he was a child," Nate nodded. "But he doesn't usually perform. So, when he got ahold of me yesterday I was a bit surprised. He said he wanted to donate the performance to the museum. I had to admit, I wasn't so sure but his real donation cemented the performance."

"I wonder why the sudden urge to perform," Raven asked, a smirk on her lips as she glanced at Clarke. Clarke just ignored her, looking back up at Landell who had stayed silent this whole time.

"It was a great performance," Landell finally spoke, looking at Nate. "It was unexpected and sounded amazing."

"I agree, Cassandra's voice was beautiful," Clarke commented, Nate's eyes finally meeting hers.

"I'm so glad you both enjoyed it," he admitted, glancing back over his shoulder. "The night has gone very well. We've had a lot of donations, including an original art piece from a private collection. The Jordan family donated one of their tapestries. It will be more than enough to keep the museum and gallery running until our next benefit."

"I'm glad to hear it," Wells nodded. "Tell me, any more surprises tonight?"

"Not that I am aware of but if anyone has surprised tonight it is the lovely miss Clarke Griffin," he chuckled, coming over to take her hand. She chuckled, remembering the well-mannered but excitable friend from the academy and took his hand. He kissed her cheek gently and then looked up at Landell, offering his hand.

"It's been a while since I've seen you," Landell said, a polite smile on his face. "I see you've done well for yourself."

"Thank you, I was going to say the same to you," he nodded, looking back at Clarke. "I hope this isn't rude but the music should be starting up soon. Would you care to dance?"

Nate only glanced up at Landell who moved his arm from Clarke's and nodded, taking a step back. Clarke only smiled, looking back at Landell thankfully before taking Nate's arm. He led her back toward the newly opened dancefloor just as the music was starting. Once again, Clarke ignored the eyes on her as the music cheerfully played about them. It was a happier tune then played before and Clarke felt at ease dancing with Nate as they moved through other people in this synchronized dance. It was only when Nate went one way, with the other dancers across from her, and she went the other, did she meet her new dance partner. She almost gasped at the familiar set of dark locks and eyes.

"Clarke," he lulled, turning with her as the others did, his hand on her hip as her hand rested on his shoulder. "You're looking lovely tonight."

"You look quite handsome as well," Clarke replied, moving with him across the open floor with the others. "Your performance was very good too."

"Thank you," Bellamy said, a genuine smile on his face. "I hope you're enjoying yourself tonight. I'd hoped for a chance to speak with you again."

He spun her around again, pulling her a little bit closer than necessary as they moved around another dancing couple. She blushed slightly when his hand gripped her hip to pull her from being hit by someone behind her and she nearly lost her balance when they moved to the opposite side of the floor. If it weren't for his arm holding her up, she'd have fallen instead of being cradled against his chest. She could hear the soft chuckle that escaped his lips before he paused, allowing her to regain composure. Once she did he led her back into the dance and this time, Clarke was determined to keep up with him.

It wasn't long until the dance was over but Clarke was determined to prove that she could keep up with him. She also wanted to prove that she could meet his challenge. Their dance was brief and barely any words were uttered but somehow, Clarke felt as if she'd learned all she needed to know. Bellamy's kind smiles and challenging eyes every time he'd surprise her with a forceful spin or close encounter caught her by surprise. It was only when they'd come to a stop, and the next song started to lull in that Clarke turned to him, prepared to thank him for the dance. Unfortunately, he offered his hand one more time.

"One more dance," he insisted, a pleading look in his eyes. She was about to turn him down and walk away but the song that was playing had already begun and the couples around them were swaying slowly with the music, speaking in private little conversations as the music played over them.

"One more," Clarke agreed, taking his hand slowly. It was warm and rough and Clarke inhaled sharply as he pulled her closer, barely an inch between them as the slow song drummed on. Clarke placed her hands on his shoulders and was surprised by how slow and even his steps were. She was horrified to realize that she enjoyed his scent, reminding her of evergreen trees.

"So, have you been avoiding me?" Bellamy asked, his tone low. Clarke immediately looked up at him to see a playful glimmer in his eyes.

"Me?" Clarke asked, glancing about. "I've been quite busy speaking to people, some whom I've just met. I didn't plan on avoiding anyone."

"I doubt it," Bellamy smirked, leaning in a little closer so that his lips were almost grazing her cheek. "You've been quite busy all night. It would seem you've also been getting a lot of attention."

"As have you," she shot back, leaning away from him as he turned her slowly.

"True," he replied. "But I'm glad we got a chance to speak. I'm hoping that you'll give me a chance to make up for the other night at your villa. I was rude and that's not the kind of person I want you to see."

"I think I know the person you really are," Clarke replied, her hands squeezing his shoulders. "I'm not sure there is much else to be gained by talking to you anymore about it."

"That's unfair," Bellamy said, his eyes wide. "I think we could be friendly, at the very least. After all, you've got some ideas and a working relationship between the two of us can only be a benefit."

"You seem to be misjudging me," Clarke replied, keeping her distance as they danced. "You seem to think that I'm going to be intimidated and corralled into your plans and schemes but it's quite the opposite. I won't be manipulated, or tamed, by any man; certainly, not by a Blake."

"You've become quite vicious," Bellamy whispered, loosening his grip around Clarke's waist. "Did I make that bad of an impression?"

"I know that you know about my list," Clarke hissed, still not meeting his gaze. "I can't trust you anymore than your friends can."

"A lucky guess," Bellamy shrugged, trying to gain her attention. "It wasn't that hard of a list to guess, Clarke."

"If it was so easy, why didn't Jon know he was being considered?" Clarke asked, her eyes narrowed as the song started to fade out. "You sent him to learn more about me but he told me everything. It seems you can't even be truthful with your friends; why would I want an ally like that?"

"You think I would leave this match to chance? Leave it in the hands of Jon Murphy?" Bellamy whispered, keeping her arm laced through his. He escorted her to the side of the dance floor as another waltz started, moving through the people standing around the floor. He rounded on her when they reached one of the few hallways that lead to the upper level, blocked off by a rope. "I did what I had to, as do you. Otherwise, you wouldn't be considering me at all."

"I don't have to consider anything," Clarke bit back, looking up into his dark eyes. They were a little close but she never backed down, trying to stay as calm as possible in case there were others watching. "You're entirely unappealing and it's clear that the only person you care about is yourself. I won't be a part of your sick games."

* * *

"My games? Listen here, Princess," Bellamy growled, stepping even closer, almost close enough to be touching. He was glaring down at her but the more she defied him, the more fascinated he became. "I'm not the only one playing games. You need to get off your high-horse and take responsibility for your actions. Did you really think I'd let you try and sway my best friend against me? Did you honestly think you could do as you pleased without any opposition?"

"You clearly don't understand," Clarke replied, stepping forward this time. He mirrored her and took a step back, looking down at the feisty blonde before him. "I don't need you half as badly as you need me. Tell me, how goes your own search for a bride?"

Bellamy stayed silent a moment, gauging his reaction before smiling down at her, his hand going up to graze her upper arm as he spoke. She didn't shy away from him, didn't falter as he did so and he wondered if he had underestimated her. "It's hit a few bumps in the road," he admitted, flashing her a dashing smile. "But, despite her actions, I think she really likes me."

Clarke's eyes went wide for a minute and then she turned away from him, moving to leave. Bellamy didn't stop her, only watched as she made her way through the crowd toward her friends. Bellamy felt desperate at that moment, hoping she'd look back at him. He'd hoped he got her attention but at the same time, worried that he'd overdone it. Bellamy watched her figure disappear through a group of people before reappearing, face flushed and eyes electric blue. She'd barely paused, barely turned but Bellamy saw it. Her bright blue eyes met his own and in that moment, he saw right through her. She didn't like that he'd cornered her and she didn't like that he'd forced her to face him but he also saw that she had recognized his challenge. In those deep blue eyes lurked a dangerous and passionate opponent and no matter how he tried, he couldn't look away. Even after she'd reached her friends and continued to ignore him, he watched.

The way she felt more conscious of herself, the stiffness in her shoulders as she forced herself not to look in his direction made her disinterest that much more amusing. He didn't know if he liked it when she ignored him or if he hated it. It was a mixed emotion that left him questioning his own motivations. He knew he had to convince Clarke to choose him; if he couldn't do that, he'd have to convince his father to force Jake's hand. This, Bellamy thought, was highly unlikely; Clarke was just as stubborn as Bellamy. She wouldn't accept her father's choice any more than she would accept Bellamy's intentions.

It was when Bellamy was lost in thought, planning on how to force her hand, that his father came up beside him. Bellamy didn't even notice until he felt his father's hand on his shoulder. He looked over at the older man with a soft smile before letting out a long sight. His father only chuckled, offering Bellamy a glass of wine before speaking.

"I see you're winning her over," Kayden commented, a grin on his lips. "She's quite feisty, isn't she?"

"It's only a matter of time," Bellamy assured, both Blake men watching Clarke closely.

"Come," Kayden finally urged, pulling Bellamy in the opposite direction. "We've got a long ride ahead of us tonight. You've pulled your little stunt here so let's get going before anyone notices we're missing."

Bellamy only nodded, downing the entire glass of wine before following his father toward one of the small exits down the roped off hallway. Once outside, the cool air of the spring night bit at their faces. The storm had gone through that afternoon, a mix of sleet and rain that left the roads slick and flooded. Bellamy followed his father to their rover and quickly took off his black and blue jacket. He also slipped off his light cotton tunic until he was in nothing but his sleeveless undershirt. He slipped on his armor, which was laying under the seat across from him and as they reached the gates of the villa, Bellamy was just pulling on his leather and fur breeches. His father got out first, his own attire changed as well. He was also wearing a thick set of leather armor lined with fur and the Blake signature "B" embroidered on the chest.

The two of them moved from the rover after slipping on their boots, waving for the men in their courtyard to follow them to the stables. After making sure their horses were properly saddled, Bellamy's mind started to wander. It was a disastrous night already, despite the efforts he'd made to impress Clarke. He'd never performed for an audience before and he had hoped that his rendition of some of her favorite songs, as hacked by Monty, would make her more sympathetic. He clearly underestimated her conviction for her own plans.

His mind was brought back to the task at hand when lightening flashed in the distance, thunder rolling seconds behind. He was going to ride out into that storm, north all night, to hopelessly try to locate twenty-one assault rifles stolen by grounders. It seemed dim and unnecessarily risky to go after them but they had to stop people from finding out. The weapons were useless without the ammo and that, along with grain and livestock, made up the cornerstone of the Arkadian economy.

The grounders could not yet produce the weapons Arkadia could, more skilled in primitive weapons and goods. Some, like TriKru, Broadleaf, Delphi, and SanKru maintained a powerful economy through trade goods to and from Arkadia but all the clans maintained strong militaries. Each clan held an arsenal of no less that twelve thousand fighters while Arkadia barely maintained five thousand of their own troops. They couldn't match the strength of the clans in numbers but their firepower outclassed them five to one. Not to mention Trikru and the Commander of the Coalition were allies of Arkadia. This thin shield against Azgeda aggression only protected them to an extent. Something had to be done about these missing weapons before they ended up in enemy hands.

It was when his father entered the stables that he stopped brushing the horse, looking toward the guards that followed. All of five of them were geared up in leather, their jackets and hoods hanging loose on their shoulders. "Ready to go I see," his father commented, motioning for him to get ready to leave. Bellamy stepped up onto his horse, making sure his sword and gun were strapped onto his saddle. He was never far away from them, no matter where in Arkadia he was. Once ready they took off down the drive toward the gates, quietly trotting between the pillars and into the streets. The commotion was dying down, the noises of talking and laughter escaping the small and large homes, lights lit in each window.

The rain was slowly falling around them as the streets became abandoned, quiet except for the patter of rain. It was a bright flash of light and a rolling boom of thunder that illuminated the way ahead. Bellamy held his horse steady, trotting toward the north gate. It wasn't far and Bellamy could see the lights and guards patrolling the towers. As they approached the large iron and wooden gate, the guards waved, yelling out as Bellamy pulled his hood tighter around his face. A guard stopped them closer to the gate, waving at his father urgently.

"Mister Blake," he said, stepping closer to his tall horse as the gate opened. "We've got the same guard on duty for the same time tomorrow night. We'll be watching for your return."

"Appreciated Noah," his father said, urging his horse forward. Bellamy only nodded at the guard before galloping after his father, the rain stinging his face as they pressed on north. For four long hours, they rode, the rain becoming more severe and freezing Bellamy's gloved hands to the reins. The hazy breath of the horses mingled with his as he leaned forward against the horse, feeling the pain in his legs as he rode on.

It had been grueling, the storm slowing as they ventured further north, reaching the factory and manor house a couple hours before dawn. The frost and ice on the ground made the trek to the house arduous, plodding up a narrow path through a glade of large evergreens. As the horses thundered up the slippery hill, the house's windows came into view, dark and covered in a silvery white frost. Bellamy pulled up next to his father now, speaking as quietly as he could.

"So, what is the plan from here?" Bellamy asked, looking over his shoulder at the guards that followed.

"We'll set up at the manor house, just an old hunting lodge my grandfather used to use," Kayden explained, slowing his horse as they gate drew near. "We'll summon the remaining guards from the delivery and have the bodies moved to the cellar until we sort this out."

"And the guns? How are we going to find them?"

"We can't track them," Kayden sighed, shaking his head. "The frost and rain has wiped away all traces of the thieves by now. The guns are useless without proper ammo and I doubt the grounders who stole them know how to properly maintain them. We need to focus on getting a shipment to the military base. It will eliminate suspicion if we are able to make the delivery to the base today, giving us more time to worry about the stolen guns afterward."

"Even if we have the guns to replace them, what happens when we have to explain to the council why grounders have our weapons?"

"I understand the predicament," his father sighed, looking over at him dismissively. "We'll use the back stock for our own personal guard and if the grounders figure out a way to use the stolen rifles, we'll tell the council that they are unaccounted for. I highly doubt that we'll have to worry about that though; the grounders have never been taught how to make ammo."

"What about our men?" Bellamy asked, his eyes wide at the idea. "Those guns are the only thing that stand between life and death for our soldiers here in the north. They cannot guard the factories and border without guns."

"We can afford to spare them until new can be made," Kayden urged. "I'll offer overtime wages for the workers."

"And what about finding the missing ones after we've sorted this all out?" Bellamy groaned, pulling his horse up short of the stairs that lead up to the large wooden double doors of the manor. "How are we going to go after them?"

"Rest the horses in the stables and stock them with food and water," Kayden called to the soldiers, waving them across the small courtyard. He dismounted, Bellamy following as they handed off their horses, grabbing the gear from their saddles. It was dark and after they'd opened the house back up, the warmth of four walls calming Bellamy's nerves, Kayden moved to a small library off the main foyer. It had a decent fireplace that warmed the room and shelves half-full of books and random items. The factory foreman was made aware of their approach so he probably had the house warmed and cleaned. Bellamy couldn't remember the last time he was here, if ever.

"We need to get some rest before the factory foreman and his guards get here," Kayden insisted, motioning for Bellamy to relax on one of the plush benches, the padded seats looking more comfortable than Bellamy cared to admit. "I'll give the order for them to be brought at sunrise and the house to be watched while we sleep."

"This whole situation is hopeless," Bellamy sighed, sitting on the bench with an exhausted huff. "What about the guards? They need some sleep too…"

"They can sleep in shifts," Kayden said, looking up at the old clock hanging on the wall. It was just after three o'clock in the morning. He sighed wearily, waving for Bellamy to lay down. Just then, one of their guards came into the house, standing in the doorway of the small library quietly.

"Sleep in shifts Jean," Kayden urged, watching out the window as the soldiers carried out his orders. "Send word to the factory that the foreman and his guards are to be here at dawn. Wake us when the foreman and the convoy guards get here."

Jean only nodded, turning from the room and leaving the warmth of the house. Bellamy could see the five guards in the courtyard, each busy brushing down the horses and gathering water and food. Bellamy couldn't resist the soft comfort of the bench under the window and almost as soon as his head had hit the pillow, he was out. He wished he'd slept longer but what felt like moments later he was being woken from a dead sleep, his father shaking his shoulder. He blinked groggily before sitting up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and looking out the window at the brightening horizon.

"They're here," Kayden said, his voice gruff with sleep. Jean stood in the doorway and Bellamy nodded, standing back up and straightening is tunic and belt. Somehow, his wet hooded jacket got taken off and placed in front of the fire to dry. He suspected his father had a hand in it and for a moment he felt overwhelmed with love and sentiment. "Let them in," Kayden continued, waving lazily to the guard. He left and Bellamy yawned, looking over his father. He looked haggard and faint and before Bellamy could stop himself, he'd grabbed his father's arm. Kayden looked at him surprised but Bellamy didn't relent. He motioned for the chair behind the desk and his father only nodded, moving to it slowly before sitting down.

He let out a relieved sigh before looking up at Bellamy, his smile weary. It was then that the doors opened again and a man, dressed in a simple gray tunic and breeches entered, followed by five guards, all dressed in black with the deep blue sash marking them as Blake soldiers.

"Mister Blake," the man in gray said, nodding his head in respect. "The convoy guards as you've requested."

"Thank you," Kayden nodded, motioning for Bellamy to stay standing by his side. "We have a lot to figure out and a short time to do it; so, tell me what happened?"

One of the guards stepped forward next to the man in gray and bowed his head before speaking, his voice even. "We were escorting the shipment, six miles out near the Kassing Outpost, when we were set upon. The storm was bleak, sleet and rain obscuring our view but we fought back as best we could. They shot arrows from the tree line and threw knives and axes. The man that was next to me, guarding the wagon, was impaled by an axe."

"How did you five escape?" Bellamy spoke up, looking between the men. Nothing hinted that they were especially skilled or smart.

"They were left alive," the foreman said, looking between them. "We found them almost two miles away from the attack closer to the factory. None of them were conscious when we found them; drugged it seemed."

"It was a message," Kayden affirmed, looking first at Bellamy and then at the soldiers. "Do you remember what they looked like? Markings or specific details about their clothing?"

The soldiers stood silent a moment and then one spoke up, a smaller man with a long nose and square jaw. "They spoke no words but they wore dark clothing, plain with only weapons and cloaks adorning them."

"Furs?" Bellamy pressed, mulling over all he knew about the grounders and their style of dress and fighting.

"Not that I remember seeing, sir," he continued.

"Their dead were long gone by the time we got to our dead soldiers and the empty crates," the foreman added, his voice uneven. He was clearly worried about getting in trouble for this or being blamed.

"This was a coordinated attack," Kayden pointed out, looking over the foreman. "You couldn't have known but we need all the details, nothing spared."

"There weren't many of them killed," the first soldier spoke, the smaller one stepping back into line. "Two maybe three confirmed kills…"

"Why so few? How many shots did you fire?"

"We each emptied a clip," he assured, looking between them. "But we couldn't see where they were firing at us from; it was almost zero visibility. They got one of us in the neck with an arrow, another two with knives as they closed in while we were reloading."

"That's when you saw their clothing?" Bellamy asked, looking at the smaller soldier again. He simply nodded.

"We shot them but they didn't fall," the first soldier continued. "I shot my handgun right into one of their chests but it only halted him for a moment before he came at me, slashing my arm and making me drop my gun."

"That's when you were poisoned," Bellamy asked, looking at the foreman.

"They all had cuts and bruises," the foreman assured. "Nothing serious but according to our medic, the weapons were drugged to knock them out."

"Anything else that's odd?" Kayden pressed, looking between them all. "Any detail or observation."

"The weapons were all melee, except the initial arrows," the soldier spoke up, stepping back into line with the four others. "But that is all we saw before we became unconscious."

"You're all lucky that you didn't join your fallen brothers," Kayden sighed, looking between the five men. "You will keep what happened yesterday a secret, do you understand?" His father's voice had become low and harsh, the soldiers looking stony faced and sober as they nodded, bowing to them curtly. "And for your bravery, you will each receive an extra ten gold in your pay this week. Spend it wisely; not on whores or drinks but on your families. I would hate for them to suffer because of your own poor choices..."

Bellamy couldn't help but admire the veiled threat, the soldiers filing out one by one. Now, only the foreman dressed in gray remained. Kayden waved for Bellamy to get a drink and as Bellamy did, he listened to his father carefully reproach the foreman.

"Now, I require something of you," he drawled, his voice low and serious. "Tell the workers that if they so choose, I will double this week's pay for them to work overtime over the next couple of days. We need those 21 guns rebuilt but for now, my son and I will escort a shipment of our own guns to the military base. They will serve better than no guns and we can go without until the new are built. I will also offer you the same ten extra gold this week, plus another two silver per week if you keep this quiet. I am sure your family will be better cared for with such a raise in your pay."

The foreman was silent for a moment and as Bellamy turned around, two drinks in his hand, he could see the mans conflicted face. He wasn't so accepting of this agreement; he wasn't a soldier. Bellamy watched him coolly sipping his own drink, waiting for his father to continue before reproaching the foreman himself.

"I believe I can agree to such terms," the foreman nodded, looking between the two Blake's with their glass and silver goblets. The foreman knew what was at stake here. Just like the soldiers, Kayden had threatened his family. It wasn't as if he could risk their safety in his position so he had no other choice but to agree. "But what about the fallen soldier's families?"

"Along with their bodies, we'll send them each a satchel of gold for services rendered. Tell their families they died in the service of the military," Kayden said, sipping from his cup. "Can you agree to those terms?"

"I can," the foreman nodded, bowing his head. "I'll take this secret to my grave."

"I'll hold you to it," Bellamy assured, speaking before Kayden could. After all, Bellamy intended to live longer than his father anyway. The foreman only nodded in respect, turning and leaving the room quickly. When the door shut behind him, Kayden sighed, looking up at Bellamy.

"What do you think?" he asked, eyeing his son closely. "Something doesn't add up."

"How did they each empty an entire clip and only kill a few?" Bellamy questioned, his eyes wide as he finished his drink. "They only saw a few fall and those were gone before the foreman and the rest of the guard got there. Something is definitely wrong with this whole thing; it doesn't make sense."

"Calm down and think," Kayden sighed, sipping his drink. "There has got to be an explanation. The grounders burn their dead so the missing dead are easily explained. But the warning, the guards left alive, aren't as easy to understand. The grounders never leave survivors, especially Azgeda raiders. There is also the problem of them being bullet-proof. I doubt they figured out how to manufacture Kevlar."

"Bullet proof vests?" Bellamy asked, pondering over the idea. "The guard said when he fired with his hand gun that the bullet didn't kill the attacker but it did stop him a moment. Is it possible they have figured out how to craft bullet proof vests?"

"Impossible," Kayden admitted, shaking his head. "They haven't the technology or the knowledge yet. They could have purchased it but we haven't exported any in over a year, ever since as Azgeda became hostile again. The council has been keeping a close eye on the sale of firearms and military grade supplies in Arkadia and Polis."

"No backdoor deals?" Bellamy asked, looking him over. "The McIntyre's create the uniforms for the guards and military. Would they sell to grounders?"

"No, we've been closely monitoring the supplies,' Kayden repeated, staring that the dying fire in the hearth. "Every military item being sold and traded is tracked and accounted for on both sides of the aisle. Even the ones on the black-market."

"Grounders couldn't have access to our armor," Bellamy admitted, his thoughts turning to darker suggestion. "Which means that whoever attacked the guns had to be Arkadian."

"It would explain how we were attacked so far within the borders," Kayden reasoned, his voice low. "And it would also explain why there were survivors."

"They had to of waited for the storm to strike and knew of our shipping schedule. The attack was so close to the outpost so it seems unlikely that it was grounders at all," Bellamy persisted, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "And if the bullets didn't kill them, bullet proof vests are the only explanation."

"Why leave the guards alive?" Kayden questioned, thinking of the men who'd been drugged. "Why leave them alive to bear witness if they wanted us to think it was grounders?"

"Like you said," Bellamy sighed. "It is a warning. They wanted us to find out it wasn't an outside enemy. They wanted us to know that the enemy was close by."

"This is not what we need right now," Kayden growled, finishing the cup in his hand. "We need to focus on a match for you; the Griffin girl. Dealing with that on top of this betrayal will cost us."

"There is no way this information won't get out," Bellamy said, looking over at his father sharply. "Whoever stole the guns will leak the information the second we return. Rumors of where we have gone will already have started."

"We need to gather the guns from the storehouse and get them to the base today," his father nodded, moving to stand.

"You need more sleep," Bellamy insisted, looking over the tired man before him. Bellamy had never noticed the graying of his hair or the deep lines on his face. He remembers his father as he always had, bright and vibrant, fierce and devoted to his family. Bellamy adored his father like any son would but he looked absolutely worn. "You stay and rest, I'll escort the shipment and meet you on the road south when I'm done."

"With enemies expecting you?" Kayden laughed, shaking his head. "No, I would never risk it."

"I'll take a couple of the guards we brought and a half a dozen from the factory," Bellamy urged. "We need this done and done quick. I'll leave the rest for the factory and manor. I don't believe that our enemy had time to come back north so you should be safe."

"And if you don't come back alive?" Kayden questioned, his eyes wide. "I won't allow my only son to go riding off alone so far north."

"It is the only option we've got," Bellamy urged. "Besides, I know how to handle myself."

"Our enemies could kill you, blame Azgeda, and then we'll have an international crisis on our hands," his father persisted. "We may be playing right into their hands."

"I don't trust anyone else transporting these guns," Bellamy urged. "If we go quickly there won't be time for betrayal or preparation. I have to go now and you know it."

"You're stubborn, just like your mother," Kayden sighed, looking over his son with weary eyes. "I can't argue with you anymore than I can with her. I'll have the three remaining guards accompany me south after I get a couple more hours of sleep. Go, gather the guns and be quick. I'll see you in a few hours."

Bellamy didn't need to be told twice. He left his father in the comfort of the manor and directed three of the guards to stay and stand watch. He then had the others follow him up the road to the factory. It was a big building, one of the oldest factories in Arkadia and next to it was a smaller, but still reinforced, storehouse. Bellamy gave orders for one of his guards to round up six others to take with them. He didn't tell them where they were going but to make it quick as he assigned the other guard to help him load up the guns onto their horses.

Bellamy's mind was entirely on task, barking orders and making sure that the guards that packed the guns did so carefully. After they were ready, packs slung over the horse's backs, they left the storehouse, locking it behind them and finding the guards that had started to assemble for their journey. Once they had fully assembled, Bellamy mounted his horse, looking at each soldier directly before speaking.

"Our journey is going to be hard but we must go quickly and silently," Bellamy began, his voice commanding. "You will run ahead of us on foot, following the road south east to the military base. Be alert and we will catch up shortly. Go quickly and stop for nothing."

The men only bowed before padding off down the ice-covered road south, their pace a little slower than Bellamy would have liked. He was greeted by the foreman shortly after who had been standing behind him at a safe distance during his commands.

"Be safe Mister Blake," he said, waving the remaining guards to be posted along the outer fence and simple guard towers. "Will you be returning?"

"I will send the guards back as soon as we've completed our task," Bellamy said, nodding at the man. "I expect the workers to be diligent and to produce the products we discussed." Before the foreman could reply Bellamy spurred his horse back in the direction of the manor, a bag of guns strapped tightly to his saddle. The other two guards on horseback followed, the bags of guns bobbing as they trotted up the road toward the manor.

Once they'd made it back into the courtyard, Bellamy made sure to instruct the remaining guards to have the horses ready and saddled for his father's departure. He also instructed them to eat well and ready the bodies of the fallen guards for transport to their homes. They would have a long and dangerous journey back with just the three of them guarding his father and Bellamy needed them to understand the need for discretion. He knew they were skilled men but he wanted to make sure they understood what was at stake. He wasn't going to risk his father, who was weary from the travel, on the road south. The fact that his father was stubborn enough to come up here worried Bellamy anyway.

He filled them in on when to leave and pulled his horse around, heading back down the hill through the glade. The two riders behind him were close, making sure to keep alert for any sign of someone on the road. If he and the guards were lucky, they'd reach the military base in two hours. The guards on foot didn't have much of a head start but it wasn't for another half hour that Bellamy caught up with them. He didn't let them stop though, pressing forward at a trot to keep them at a steady pace. Luckily, none of them looked tired or winded when they'd reached the hour mark.

Bellamy rode on, watching the trees and checking over his shoulder, stopping a few times for brief moments to scout their surroundings. The guards on horses stuck to his orders, leading and flanking the runners just in case they needed to toss off their cargo to another. The storm from the night before had left the road muddy and cracked, the horses kicking up frozen dirt and mud, making many of the men's boots squish as they trod on. It was only when the military base was visible over the rise of a hill that Bellamy felt relieved.

It was a sprawling facility, second largest in Arkadia, the first being within the city itself. It held three buildings, all interconnected with automated doors and thick steel walls. Steel was something they had learned was needed during the civil war, when Azgeda marched on their borders killing hundreds with fire. There was a huge field alongside the facility along with three different smaller buildings for guard housing and necessities. As they approached the large perimeter gate, fitted with electric wire and steel mesh, a guard stopped, them, waving for the gatemen.

After a few moments of negotiation, a thorough line of questioning, and an annoying underling's prying suspicions, Bellamy was let in and greeted by none other than Arthur Pike. He was in his uniform, adorned with the yellow and light blue sash distinguishing him as a Pike. He also had a metal pin on his sash, delegating him as lieutenant colonel and commander of the base.

"Bellamy Blake," he smiled, offering his hand as Bellamy stepped down off his horse, his soldiers mirroring him as the others rested at the gate. "Personally escorting the shipment, huh?"

"I wanted to apologize for the delay," Bellamy insisted, shaking his hand before pulling the bag off the saddle and setting it down before Arthur. Bellamy noticed that over the years Arthur had gained a few inches on him and his once toned physique was much larger, almost bulking. He had spent much of their prep-school days competing with Arthur and he remembers that the man in front of him always fancied a military career. He always wanted to rise within the military and with his latest exploit he was promoted to Lieutenant Colonel for his bravery and victory over invading Ice Nation rebels. "The faulty batch has been sent back and here is a brand new, fully operational, shipment."

"Glad to hear it," Arthur smiled, grabbing a gun from the sack and holding it up, looking through the sight. The big man before him was a bit intimidating but Bellamy never let that cross his mind. To others he may have been a fierce young military commander but to Bellamy, he'd always be that rash jarhead from prep-school. Arthur inspected the weapon for a moment, carefully analyzing each piece before looking back at Bellamy. "Can I offer you or your men refreshment?"

"No, thank you Colonel," Bellamy smiled, waving for the others to set their sacks of guns down. "I just need the paperwork and I'll be on my way." He didn't like the way Arthur lorded over him. He may have been a ranking military officer but Bellamy knew this pompous classmate of his was just gloating over his position.

"I was expecting a radio call or at least some sort of notice that you were on your way," Arthur chuckled, motioning for his soldiers to take the guns. "If I'd have known it was Bellamy Blake, I would have made more of a showing."

"No need," Bellamy replied, a guarded smile on his face. He needed to leave sooner rather than later but didn't need Arthur's suspicions. He wasn't even sure who it was that attacked their previous shipment and the culprit could be someone here. Nothing was certain and Bellamy didn't want to risk his father out in the open for another enemy to strike at. "We'll be on our way as soon as the paperwork is concluded."

Arthur just nodded, a sly smile on his face before pulling a piece of paper from his jacket. He handed it to Bellamy and after looking it over, Bellamy thanked him, moving to mount his horse again. Arthur however, spoke up. "I hope everything is in order," Arthur said, his voice slow but even. "You've come all the way from Arkadia to apologize face-to-face but you rush off as if there is a fire."

"I have much to attend to," Bellamy nodded, looking over his shoulder as he swung his leg over the horse. "My family expects me home and I cannot disappoint them. My mother would never allow it…"

"The apology is appreciated," Arthur assured, motioning for him to leave, an unsettling smile on his lips. "Safe travels!"

Bellamy just waved, motioning for the other saddled guards to follow. The men at the gate looked exhausted but their trek was not over. They had to make it back to the factory still and Bellamy gave them their mission after they were safely away from the gates of the base. With strict orders to return swiftly, Bellamy left the foot soldiers to trek north, his own path taking him west to the main road where he and his father arranged to meet.

The group trotted west, their pace steady and even as they made for the road south. Bellamy would much rather be waiting on his father than miss him, let alone allow him to wait out in the open. It wasn't a long ride to the main road but it was tougher. The drifts had blocked many of the east and west roads, the horses slowing up before the bridge that lead over the largest river in Arkadian territory. A great river cut through the north of Arkadia, feeding the lake within its walls and here was where the roads north, east, and west met. It was a narrow but sturdy bridge that linked one side of the river to the other and here is where Bellamy pulled up, waiting for his father.

They stayed mounted for a few minutes, watching and listening before Bellamy dismounted, allowing his horse to rest and drink from the river's edge. He was uneasy, his handgun always ready in case of an attack. He secretly resented feeling this fear and frustration; nothing bothered Bellamy Blake more than uncertainty. He didn't know if the guards among him had betrayed him or if it was the guards trekking north. He didn't know if his father's guards were mutinous or if his father already had a plan. Bellamy hated uncertainty, hated unknown variables.

It was his worse trait; patience wasn't something he'd been good at and the older he got, the more problems this caused. His father counseled that he temper himself and learn to wait for the right opportunity but no matter what the situation was, he lacked patience. He was impatient to meet up with his father, to lay eyes on him before they both made the long journey back to Arkadia. If they pressed on from here, as they did last night, they would arrive exactly when the paid guard took over at the gates. The only problem was that Bellamy didn't believe his father would have the strength to endure another three long hours of riding.

After another twenty minutes had passed, Bellamy was getting worried. He and his father always had a way of communicating, short-wave radios perfect for their mission. However, some grounders knew how to create short-wave radios of their own and could intercept their communications, especially this close to the border. Bellamy hesitated to use it, as his father expressly forbid it until they were at least ten miles from the border. He was about to turn to the designated channel when the thundering of hooves caught his attention. He quickly looked up from the radio and saw four horses approaching from the north, his father at the head of them. A wave of relief washed over Bellamy and he swiftly mounted up, pulling at the reins of his horse and directing him onto the path. When his father spotted him and the other guards he slowed down, waving for the others to do the same.

"Father," Bellamy smiled, his voice more relieved than he intended it to sound. "I was getting a bit worried."

"I can tell," he smiled. "Let's keep going. It's still another three hours until we get home and I slept longer than anticipated. We should be back in Arkadia before sundown. Was the shipment successfully dropped?"

"Yes, Colonel Pike was grateful," Bellamy laughed, his voice full of sarcasm and distaste.

"Ah, I should have reminded you," Kayden smiled, motioning for the guard to follow them as he spurred his horse forward. Bellamy never took his eyes off his father, neither of them slowing down as they thundered south another half hour. When they did decide to slow down, Bellamy made sure to pull up next to him, looking over his father closely. He didn't want him collapsing before they reached the villa.

"We've made up some time," Kayden spoke, his voice low but hopeful. "The mile marker is coming up. We'll be entering Green territory now."

"Only until we get to the public land," Bellamy smiled, motioning at the etched signs that they were trotting by. There were three of them; two pointing south and one pointing north. The one pointing north said "North Base: 17 mi". The other two read "Arkadia: 36 mi" and "Green Hills: 14 mi". Kayden just laughed, patting his horse's neck.

"The horses are worn out," Kayden nodded. "After riding hard late last night and then again today, we need to slow it down. These are two of the best in our stables after all; it isn't easy on them to cover over 100 miles in 24 hours."

"It's a punishing trip, hopefully never to be repeated," Bellamy sighed. "I just want to get back to mother and Octavia quickly."

"You got that from me," Kayden grinned, staying alongside Bellamy as they rode south toward Arkadia. "I was not a patient man in my youth; I wish I had been but I learned the hard way."

"It isn't my strong suit," Bellamy admitted, scanning the road ahead. "Just like trust."

"Don't worry so much," Kayden pressed, looking over the road ahead. "We'll find out who is responsible when we return to Arkadia."

"The Green's men patrol these roads more thoroughly than we do in the north," Bellamy commented, looking about. "Perhaps they saw something."

"I wouldn't raise questions now," Kayden replied, shaking his head. "Our enemies are numerous and their power vast. We need to tread cautiously until we have a plan."

"We can stop at the outpost up here," Bellamy suggested, remembering the small fenced in building with a radio beacon attached to its roof. "It's the half way mark from here and the Green's are our allies."

"We ride on," Kayden insisted, shaking his head again. "We cannot risk raising suspicions yet; not even from our allies. Trust me in this."

"Why not gather the information now, while it's fresh in their minds?" Bellamy pressed, irritated that his father wasn't listening to reason. Monty and his family were close allies and good friends. Bellamy couldn't possibly understand why his father wanted to avoid involving them.

"I said, we ride on," Kayden repeated, his voice stern and cold. He and Bellamy locked eyes for a moment, the heated gaze lasting briefly. Bellamy didn't dare challenge his father in front of their guards and could almost feel the way his father challenged him with that gaze. Bellamy only looked away, his anger flaring in his chest as he did so. His father respected his opinion in some matters but in others, he was tight lipped and distant. Bellamy hated this most of all.

Bellamy wrinkled his nose at this point, hiding his questions behind a nod before spurring his horse onward at a faster pace. He had pulled away from his father and the group slightly, hearing the clacking of hooves fade further away until he finally slowed down, eyeing the road and the trees around him. He needed a moment to stifle his agitation and his impatience and knew he shouldn't have pulled ahead in anger. He stopped his horse now, waiting for his father and the rest of the guards to catch up. Bellamy could hear his father approaching behind him but before he turned to look at him, he felt a searing pain in his left shoulder. Bellamy cried out, seeing the object protruding from his arm as his eyes burned in pain; tears began leaking down his cheeks.

The object was a crudely made arrow, the point lodged firmly in his shoulder. Bellamy didn't think twice now, adrenaline kicking in as he pulled his hand gun, turning toward the direction of the shooter. It was only then did he see the small group of people, hiding among the trees. Bellamy shot at them, making one collapse before turning to fire at another. The rest of the guard who'd accompanied them had opened fire as well, halting their horses and aiming at the trees. They cried out and whinnied as the guns spooked them, making it harder to hold onto the reins of his own horse with his shoulder bleeding so much.

Bellamy tried to steady himself but the pain was searing through his arm and paralyzing his spine. He felt a burning sensation in his back and let go of the reins entirely, his left hand unable to grasp them anymore. He shot again at the tree line before holstering the weapon and grasping the reins with his good hand. He flinched when he swung himself down off the horse, using it for cover as his father did the same. The guards had stayed mounted, shooting at the group that had moved behind a mound of dirt and fallen log within the trees. Bellamy could hear the guns ringing in his ear and quickly checked his shoulder, the blood trickling down his arm.

"How bad is it?" his father asked, rushing to his side as he held the reins of his horse. When his eyes fell on the arrow lodged in Bellamy's shoulder, his brow immediately furrowed, looking back over his shoulder at the guards still shooting at the trees. "We need to get out of here!" he called, motioning for them to cover them as they mounted back up. Kayden helped hoist Bellamy back onto his horse, his spine and shoulder burning as he grasped the reins. An arrow came shooting past Bellamy's head at that moment and another behind him, almost hitting his father.

Kayden quickly jumped up onto the horse, the gunfire ringing as three of the guards covered them, the other two following close behind. Kayden urged his horse forward at a full sprint, slapping Bellamy's with his hand to follow him. Bellamy held on tight with his right arm, bent over the horse in agony as the trees and road flew by, bouncing him uncomfortably. The gunshots were fading with every second and Bellamy didn't dare turn back to see where the rest of the guard was. The hooves of the horses thundered on and before Bellamy could stop it, he felt dizzy and tired.

The forest and bright sunlight peeking through the trees around them was fading and Bellamy felt limp. He could feel the grip on the reins loosen but couldn't stop it, willing himself to grasp harder, his fingers slipping from the reigns slowly. Sleep and darkness were engulfing him as he rode, soon all sounds fading until consciousness had left Bellamy's falling body.

* * *

 **Oooooooh... what could happen to our favorite hero? More soon. R &R please.**


	8. Chapter 8: Senseless Violence

**Better than 1,000 hollow words is one that brings peace. - Buddha**

 **R &R!**

* * *

Clarke sat leisurely in the breakroom at the hospital. It doubled as a dining hall and as Clarke sat at one of the tables, reading the latest report about a newly admitted patient, her mind began to wander. Last night, for the most part, was productive. She had chances to speak to the suitors on her list but she also had time to get to know each of them a little better. She laid awake last night, staring at the ceiling, contemplating each suitor carefully. Each had redeeming qualities but in contrast, each suitor also had flaws; Clarke knew this was inevitable but she never expected them to be so similar. The main downfall, with all her suitors, was that their willingness to assist her and the ability to do so were always imbalanced.

Landell was willing to assist her but he was also a safe match; he was one of a few men her father would approve of. He was also unable to convince Bellamy and his friends to come to the table in discussion, something Clarke knew she needed. On the other hand, Jon was completely neutral on his counsel; he didn't express if he'd help or hinder her. However, his ability to help her was also a risk she'd have to take. If his family betrayed the Blake, and sided with her, it may cause more harm than good for her side. What she intended to be a peaceful transition could mean the outbreak of civil war. This was nothing compared to Bellamy Blake's position; he was absolutely unwilling to help but his ability to do so trumped everything. With a word to his friends, he could bring all the major parties to the table without any hesitation.

At that moment, she was pulled from her thoughts and back to the present situation. In front of her was the screen she'd been looking at the patient's report on but it was not flashing blue, a signal that a message had come through. It was short but Clarke knew it was from her mother.

COME TO WARD C. UNABLE TO SUCCESSFULLY REMOVE BULLET FRAGMENT. NURSE WILL PREP YOU.

Her mother didn't contact her over the handheld unless she absolutely needed her help. With nothing but interns and Abby working in surgery that morning, Clarke wasn't surprised that she needed a more experienced set of hands. She jumped up and strode up the small flight of stairs to the main floor. There was a reception area but Clarke walked right by, scanning her handheld at the locked door. Clarke walked past the small group of people who'd gathered at the entrance and into the main annex where the receptionist waved at her, motioning for her to come through the office. She was obviously expecting Clarke because when she turned to her, the woman transferred a patient profile to her handheld.

Clarke simply nodded at the woman with a kind smile and glanced at the charts and details as she took off through another set of doors. Here was the lockers and cages where they kept their personal items while on shift. Clarke didn't really have time to think; it was a routine she'd been practicing for almost a year. She opened her locker, threw her office items in, and quickly got dressed for surgery. As she did she kept looking over the chart, careful to take in the patient's details. The patient was an 18-year-old male with a healthy metabolism and an overall good chart. His heart rate was increased as was his blood pressure but he was also in extreme pain. The bullet had struck him just above the clavicle and lodged itself within the shoulder. Part of the projectile had already been removed, revealing that a piece of the metal was still inside, broken off during impact. Clarke was done dressing and through the washroom doors before she was done assessing the situation.

Clarke left the handheld on the bench as she washed her hands and arms, her mask and smock fully in place, her hair tied up and matted under a large yellow cap. She stepped through the double doors, opening it with her feet before being ushered over to a surgical table; lights bright on the body laying limp, face behind a curtain. She walked up, across from Abby, and assessed the situation. The blood around the wound had putrefied and the veins around the wound had become more prominent, a dark blue over tan and blood stained skin.

"We have him on antibiotics," Abby spoke, glancing up at Clarke. "We're filtering his blood via transfusion but it's only going to work for a short while longer. His blood pressure and heart rate are high. I need you to remove the rest of the bullet still lodged in his muscle. You can see it there…"

Clarke looked at where Abby had spread apart the wound, metal clamps shining from the lights above. Clarke only leaned over slightly, looking for the shard still stuck in his flesh. When she finally saw, what Abby was talking about, she inhaled sharply. It was low enough, and deep enough, to have pierced his lung. She looked up at her mother and their eyes met, Abby affirming Clarke's fear as both Griffin women looked back at the wound.

"If we pull it out and it has pierced the lung, it might collapse," Clarke whispered, moving closer to the side of the table the wound was on. "Or at the very least fill it with fluid. When was he shot? This wound has been allowed to fester…"

"Yesterday afternoon, someone else had tried to pull the bullet out but he was dropped at the hospital a short while ago," Abby sighed, nodding at the wound. "Will you remove the bullet?"

Clarke nodded at her and came around the table, moving Abby out of the way so she could better focus on the wound. Clarke took a deep breath, grabbing the metal tweezers from the nurse's hand as Abby spread open the flesh a little more, blood trickling into the wound. The nurse dabbed it up and Clarke could see the shard, black and splintered, shining back at her. She slowly inched the tweezers down, her hand steady on the tool as she adjusted the distance between the pincers. She felt a sudden quiet and calm in the room as she pinched onto the black shard, her level hand pulling it slowly from the torn flesh. To her relief, the shard had not gone so deep to pierce the lung, the small amount of blood springing up after she removed it less severe. She discarded the metal piece into the tin bowl before turning back to the wound, inspecting the exposed clavicle. It had been cracked, the small, almost invisible line being covered with a pool of blood yet again. It would take time to heal but it would heal without incident if the person on the table took it easy.

The cartilage and muscle around the wound was sliced, almost as if by a skilled blade, over the shoulder revealing the barely visible scapula between the red and bloody flesh. It had not suffered damage but the muscle and clavicle would cause a problem for at least six weeks. For the next hour Clarke and her mother monitored the heart rate as it evened out, cleaning and repairing what they could of the wound. It wasn't an overly complicated procedure but it certainly wasn't one you'd entrust to a first-year intern. After the patient was stable again, Abby and Clarke finished up the stitching and staples, making sure to stitch the gaping wound with small loops and an intricate weave so that it wouldn't open. This spot, a major joint, moved along with every other movement in the human body. It was almost impossible to stop from using your shoulder so it had to be done delicately and cleanly.

After they'd finished stitching and cleared the patient they went into the other room to remove their surgical smocks. Clarke felt relieved that the surgery went smoothly and that the bullet had missed the man's lung. When they'd removed all their gear and items, Clarke went to her locker, grabbing her discarded items.

"I'd prefer if you stayed to talk to your patient," her mother said, looking over at Clarke.

"Me? You're so much better at bed-side manner than I am," Clarke laughed, shaking her head. "Why can't you? I just assisted."

"I will be there too," Abby agreed, straightening the scrubs she'd been wearing.

"I'd prefer to get back to my own patients," Clarke nodded, looking back at her handheld which had been placed on the bench by one of the nurses.

"You'll be off duty in an hour so what will it hurt?" Abby asked, eyeing Clarke incredulously.

"Fine, I'll pop in with you," Clarke agreed, giving in easily to avoid her mother's suspicions. "Why was that patient not brought in right away? That wound could have been a whole lot worse…"

"We've got the city guard looking into it but judging from his fingerprint profile, he's lived in Arkadia his whole life," Abby reasoned, pulling up the patient's profile on her own screen. "He's only ever had three addresses and the most current one is downtown, on Slaughter Street."

"It was a gang attack, wasn't it?" Clarke asked, eyeing the profile closely. "It says here, he's been arrested before. Disturbing the peace and possession of an unregistered firearm."

"He was only fifteen when they found the gun on him," Abby noted. "So they couldn't prosecute as an adult but he's been affiliated with gangs and guns for almost five years."

"Who is he though? Obviously, none of his people regret loosing him," Clarke scoffed, closing the locker.

"Clarke," her mother sighed, grabbing her wrist. Clarke turned to her, looking a bit surprised before noticing that her mother's eyes were full of guilt. "He was one of our men. Apparently, they were provoked by one of the Blake gangs and gunfire broke out; three other men died."

Clarke couldn't speak in that moment, her mind still trying to comprehend what her mother was telling her. "Three other men?" Clarke asked, her eyes going wide, her voice barely above a whisper. "Three more human lives taken?"

"Clarke…"

"No, tell me what happened," she demanded, the disbelief in Abby's eyes unable to stop the rage and heartache she was feeling. "What would provoke someone to kill like that? What reasons could be worth three lives?"

"Keep your voice down," Abby warned, stepping closer and pulling Clarke down to sit on the bench next to her. Clarke did so, reluctantly, and Abby sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "We haven't been able to discern what happened," Abby continued, looking over her shoulder briefly. "Once he is conscious, I will talk to him. That is another reason that I want you there; your father isn't being fair and I want you to see what you're really dealing with."

"You'd let me talk to him?" Clarke asked, her eyes wide. The anger and annoyance she'd felt had given way to sympathy and admiration in an instant. It almost shocked Clarke at how considerate her mother was being.

"Just don't tell your father," Abby nodded. "It's my job to look after you, even if your father won't."

"Mom," Clarke said, reprising her. "He's just doing what needs to be done…"

"Only my daughter would defend someone like this," Abby smirked, unshed tears coming to her eyes. "Your father will want a report anyway so involving you seemed only logical. Let him grumble about it if he wants."

"I don't understand why I can't be involved more anyway," Clarke reasoned, looking down at the handheld she still grasped. "Does he think I'm not ready? Is something wrong?"

"Nothing like that," Abby sighed, shaking her head. "He's just determined to protect you. He does things in his own time and in his own way, you know this."

"It just blows my mind," Clarke sighed. "If I was a man, it'd be entirely different. I'd have a plethora of women to choose from and no rush to make a decision."

"That's not what's going on here and you know it," Abby reasoned, squeezing Clarke's arm. "He can't possibly hope to pass on his title, his burden, without knowing you'll be taken care of."

"I can take care of myself, you know," Clarke reasoned.

"Just trust your father in this," Abby nodded, a grimace on her face. "I may not agree with everything he's doing but I agree with his reasoning. Just be patient with him."

"So, what about this patient? Will he even tell us anything?" Clarke asked, looking down at the screen with his information on it. "Who knows if he's even telling the truth."

"We could persuade him," Abby reasoned, a dark look in her eyes. "But I'm hoping it won't come to that."

"Then let's go before I change my mind," Clarke grumbled, standing up. "There better be a legitimate reason to all this chaos."

"There usually never is," Abby sighed, leading Clarke from the room and out into the receptionist's hall. The patient they wanted was put up in a room not far from here as part of the ICU and Clarke appreciated the fact that it was a private room. She was sure her mother had planned it that way so she could interrogate him without interruption. They both dropped off their displays to the desk and then took off down the hall, the nurse unlocking the wing for them to slip through. When they got to the room, Abby went in first, dismissing the nurse and locking the door behind her.

Clarke was fascinated with how many staff members her mother had in her pocket; she'd never considered this a reality until just now and was thankful to have been schooled. Abby drew the curtains around the bed as she and Clarke stood next to the stirring man, his eyes fluttering open a few times before gaining focus. He was staring, dumbfounded, about him as he tried to move. The nurse had already strapped him down and it frightened him. Once he gained focus again and noticed who was standing at his bedside, his demeanor changed.

He immediately became still and waited, looking anywhere but at Abby. When he spotted Clarke he almost groaned, turning his attention back to Abby. She didn't give him time to speak first. "What happened?" Abby asked, her voice stern but light. "Tell me everything you remember."

"Where am I?" he asked, trying to pull himself up from the pillows.

"You're at the hospital and have just had a bullet fragment surgically removed from your chest," Abby responded, stepping closer. "You are safe for now but I need you to tell me what you remember. Why were you shot at yesterday?"

"Ma'am, please," he said looking over at Clarke and then back at Abby. "I can't…"

"I know you can't but you will," Abby retorted, her voice a little louder. "So, start from the beginning. What happened?"

"It was an accident- "

"It'll be worse for you if you don't tell me the truth," Abby warned, her tone changing again, dangerously calm.

"We were downtown, on Main," the man began, his eyes never leaving Abby. "Doin' our normal rounds on rents and all when we spotted four strangers walkin' up the avenue. Poullo recognized one of 'em as Bellamy Blake so, we approached 'em. Tried to scare 'em off, give 'em a good beating but that's not what happened."

"You're telling me that you spotted Bellamy Blake downtown and you took it upon yourselves to assault him, without provocation?" Abby asked, the motherly rage of disappointment ringing through her words. "What would prompt such a response?"

"P-Poullo thought it a good opportunity to make their men and family look weak," the man sputtered, trying to reason with her. "I had no choice…"

"And what happened to Poullo?"

"D-dead," he replied, his eyes firmly on the ceiling now. "Stabbed in the throat by Bellamy Blake himself."

"They didn't provoke you in any way?" Abby reassured, moving closer to the bed.

"Just being there was provocation enough," Clarke reasoned, finally weighing in on this. "Who else was with him? You said there were four strangers?"

"Technically, three," the man replied, refusing to look at Clarke. "One of 'em I did recognize was Murphy."

"Jon Murphy?" Clarke asked, making the connection. "It had to be Monty and Jasper with them. None of them were women?"

"N-no," he replied confused by her question.

"Tell us exactly how it happened," Clarke continued, stepping closer to the bed as well. She needed to hear this; she needed to know what she was up against. She was more than thankful that it wasn't Kat involved in this shoot-out but she was severely disappointed in Jon.

"Poullo provoked 'em by throwing Blake to the ground but it was so fast…"

"Think," Clarke pressed, sitting on the edge of the metal framed bed and mattress.

"He made 'em mad and there was blood everywhere," he responded, his voice distant like his eyes. "Almost cleaved Poullo in half with 'is sword. Stabbed 'im through the neck for the kill; so much red."

Clarke felt sick to her stomach and she stood back up, backing away from the bed a couple steps. Her mother must have noticed her discomfort and her disbelief because she spoke now, gaining the boy's attention. "How did the other two die?" Abby asked, her voice soft again. The man only stared blankly at the ceiling before responding.

"One's arm was cut off by Murphy before he was stabbed in the chest. The other was almost gutted, like a fish," he answered. "I passed out after that…"

"You're lucky you survived," Abby reasoned, gaining his attention. "I'll keep an eye on you while you're here but once your back home, you need to take it easy. It's going to take a few weeks to make that shoulder better."

Abby then motioned for Clarke to follow her as she slid open the curtains around the bed and went for the locked door. The two women left quickly, Abby motioning for the nurse to go back to him. Clarke, however, was in a daze; the thought of blood being spilt like that so close to home made her stomach turn and her chest burn. It was senseless and mindless murder and Clarke wasn't about to dismiss it. She felt almost livid at how little care was taken for this boy, barely older than she was. The sheer brutality and mindless bloodshed had her vexed and it wasn't until they'd reached Abby's office that she was pulled from her dazed stupor.

"Now you know," her mother said, making Clarke snap back to reality. "This is what it means to take up your father's duties, his burden. Unfortunately, this is only one of several unpleasant parts of the job."

"I just don't understand it," Clarke fumed, pacing the room now. She was feeling helpless at that moment and a sense of panic started to kick in. Her mother could tell she was about to completely unhinge but stayed where she was, watching Clarke closely. Clarke knew she had to control her emotions, to see the bigger picture here, but she just couldn't get over the fact that three more lives were lost to senseless rivalry.

"There is no point in trying to understand the unexplainable," Abby offered, making Clarke look at her incredulously. "If you can't handle this, something minor and easily fixed, I cannot imagine you'll do better on the council."

"You're right," Clarke snapped, squaring her shoulders. "I should just treat this as a normal day in Arkadia, right? Just go on like it never happened?"

"This is no different than any other time," Abby argued, her voice becoming a bit more commanding. "Just because you know the identity of the attacker doesn't mean it changes anything. Bellamy Blake works in the judicial institute anyway."

"That doesn't mean this should go unpunished," Clarke countered, her jaw squared. "It's wrong…"

"They'll just argue self-defense, which as you just heard, is plausible," Abby sighed, shaking her head. "Clarke, you have to see this for what it was, nothing more. I didn't show you this to hurt you or confuse you. I did it to help you understand what it was you were facing, not only as a doctor but as a Griffin."

"It doesn't change the fact that it's wrong," Clarke spat, feeling the heat well in her chest again. "Since when did human life become so expendable? This isn't what our ancestors wanted when they came down on the Ark. It's such a waste…"

"Pull yourself together," Abby commanded, making Clarke's eyes go wide. "What did you learn? What can you use this information for?"

"I learned that life is a toy to Bellamy Blake," Clarke spat. "I also learned that he's not to be trusted."

"You already knew he wasn't trustworthy," Abby groaned, her eyes urging Clarke to think harder. Clarke only stared at her, a mixture of confusion and frustration taking over until Abby finally gave in, sighing loudly. "You've seen where he draws the line, you've seen what is necessary to survive. You've also seen what kind of lives are in your hands as the heir to the Griffin family. That young man in there is undereducated, underfed, and underappreciated; he didn't choose this life but that is what he was given. Understanding even the lowest of your allies is what keeps you mindful and unassuming. Don't forget it."

* * *

Bellamy woke with a start, staring at the bright room around him. He immediately heard voices as he moved, struggling to adjust his eyes to the sun pouring through the high windows. It was his father's voice that stood out, Bellamy immediately going still to assess the situation. He was on a couch, his shirt torn off and a large white and blood-stained patch covered his shoulder. He felt sore, immediately regretting the jerking motion he made when saw his father. He was then pressed down to the couch again and this time, an unfamiliar face loomed over him. It was a dark-haired woman with coal colored eyes.

"Stay still," she urged, looking over her shoulder where Kayden stood talking quietly to an older man, gray and squat. "Uncle!"

"Bellamy," Kayden said, moving over to him, waving for her to let go of him. "Calm down, we're safe."

"Where are we?"

Bellamy looked around more closely now, the large room ornately decorated in a very minimal scheme. It had a simple white fireplace but the room was trimmed in black with baroque and rococo touches of silver and bronze. The furniture was also simple, practical designs in the chairs, shelves, couches, and buffets. It was something Bellamy didn't notice initially and when he looked upon it, he couldn't help but appreciate the familiar beauty. He'd been here long ago, as a child.

"The Green estate," Kayden smiled, looking over at the older man standing near the window. "This is Monty's grandfather Jin and his cousin Phoebe. She's also your cousin, widow to your late cousin Ewan Blake."

"He shouldn't stand or try to get up yet," Phoebe reasoned, looking between the two men. "He needs to take it easy."

"I'm fine," Bellamy urged, sitting up on the couch and looking between the two. He felt a little light-headed but wasn't going to tell them that. He moved to stand but his father's hand on his good shoulder steadied him.

"Relax, we're waiting for a rover to get here," Kayden nodded, moving to sit across from Bellamy on the simple wooden coffee table.

"What about the guards? The grounders that attacked us? Where are they?"

"Slow down," Kayden urged, shaking his head. "The guards didn't make it back. We ran into a Green patrol about five miles from the attack but by the time they got there, the men were dead. Poisoned…"

"How did-?"

"I rode you here myself," Kayden nodded, a weary but relieved look on his face. "I was worried you wouldn't make it…"

"We Greens have done extensive studies on the plant life of this region and others," Phoebe assured, looking over his bandage again. "You were lucky that we already had an antidote made up; a poison we recently discovered ourselves. A plant formerly known as bloodroot to Native Americans; it's been intensified considerably since the fallout and rebirth."

"Can I have a moment alone with my father?" Bellamy asked, his patience being tested. This was evident in his tone and both Phoebe and Jin left the room moments later, shutting the set of double doors behind them.

"That was rude- "

"What about the guns? What did you tell them about us being so far north?" Bellamy was frantic, confused by his father's calm demeanor.

"I'm just relieved your alive," Kayden urged, leaning forward and placing a hand on the side of Bellamy's face. "I thought I wouldn't make it here in time… that you'd die in my arms and- "

"It'll take more than an arrow and some poison to kill me, father," Bellamy declared, his eyes scanning the room. "So, what do we do from here?"

"Jin and Phoebe think we were attacked along the road on the way back from an unsuccessful hunting trip. I told them we were mixing business with pleasure by making a gun delivery," Kayden assured, standing back up now. He walked over to a small buffet near one of the windows and began pouring two glasses of brandy. He handed Bellamy one and sat back down next to him, staring blankly into the cup.

Bellamy downed his drink quickly, moving to stand up. When he did, he swayed slightly, feeling faint before regaining balance. He strode over to the buffet, poured another drink, and returned to the couch, looking over at his father ruefully. He could see the terror behind Kayden's eyes and the uncertainty brewing as he sipped his drink.

"So, has the attack been reported? What about mom and Octavia?"

"They are both fine, I radioed in about an hour ago," Kayden responded, his voice full of bitterness and forlorn discomfort. "The council knows that there was an attack and there will be an inquiry. We must have a singular story; I've already sent riders north to the factory and lodge to ensure cooperation."

"Why are you so quiet about this?" Bellamy asked, downing his drink again and setting the glass on the wooden table. "Why are you so bitter and disappointed? I'm fine, the story is sound; what is really bothering you?"

"Don't you understand?" Kayden growled, the bear in him coming back to the surface. "There has been not one but two attacks on Arkadian soil in the past week. Attacks that have killed, so far, nine of _our_ people. We're forced to cover up the first but there is no possible way to cover up the second. If they dig too deeply, find out that there were two attacks, we'll be forced to allow the military onto our northern lands because there is a threat of attack. We've handed Griffin and Pike their precedent to control our lands."

"Then a solution is simple," Bellamy pointed. "We'll kill two birds with one stone by having a dinner party."

"Have you gone mad?" Kayden questioned, his eyes wide.

"Invite the Azgeda ambassadors," Bellamy explained, leaning his head back against the couch. "Dine with them, make a show of support for them, confuse those who would confuse us. By dining with Azgeda we not only remove suspicion that it was them who initiated this attack but it also enables us to force whoever is really pulling the strings to hasten their plans."

"Hasty plans lead to mistakes," Bellamy continued, glancing over at his father's dumbfounded face. "And when they make one, we'll catch them in the act. Also, it doesn't hurt that this plan forces Clarke to consider my suit a bit more seriously. Like I said: two birds, one stone."

"This doesn't stop the council from mandating that our tenants must house and feed the military while protecting our lands," Kayden pointed, his eyes narrowed. "Don't you understand? This is how we could lose a huge chunk of our northern territory."

"It buys us time," Bellamy reasoned. "You can formally present your case as the victim once you've spoken to the accused. Arkadian law is clear; the victim must privately approach the defendant and try to come to a settlement. Only when that has failed, can the courts get involved. The military cannot be called into action unless charges are formally being pressed."

"The council could enact emergency protocol and overrule the courts," Kayden pointed, his face still grim. "This attack is enough provocation."

"But they haven't enacted emergency protocol in over 25 years," Bellamy replied, his voice nonchalant. "They can't just take powers unto themselves without a majority vote by the courts and the guilds. It would take them longer than waiting for a private settlement and would stir up the commoners."

"The council wouldn't be able to take action until imminent threat is determined," Kayden recognized, looking at Bellamy with a slight smirk. "And if the council thinks the dinner party is for formal proceedings, they wouldn't be able to act. It buys us time to work something out with Azgeda.."

"Time is all we need and with time, we gain the opportunity to unmask our enemy and expose them to the council," Bellamy smiled. "But what about the Greens? Do you think they'll be suspicious too?"

"I'll talk to Ichiro when we return," his father nodded, finishing his drink. "I know the Greens are loyal. We share blood and friendship, something you and Monty share. After all, he's like a brother to you."

There was a knock at the door now and then it opened, revealing Phoebe again. She strode into the room, handed Kayden a radio, and looked over Bellamy one last time before speaking. "They just radioed; they're a half hour out."

"How long have I been out?" Bellamy asked, looking about for a clock.

"You got here relatively early in the afternoon," Phoebe assured, glancing out the window. "But after the surgery- "

"Surgery?"

"We had to remove the arrow and a shard that broke off inside," Phoebe explained, offering to refill their drinks. "You're lucky Doctor Albert was here already to treat grandpa Jin. But to answer your question, after surgery you were heavily sedated and needed the rest. We hooked you up to an I.V. and allowed you to sleep the rest of the night. You've been out for nearly fourteen hours."

"Don't worry about it," Kayden interjected, stopping Bellamy's line of questioning. "You needed the rest and, frankly, so did I."

"What about mom and O?"

"I told you they were fine," Kayden nodded. "But right now, we need to get ready. I want to get back to Arkadia as quickly as possible. Your mother has already insisted you be taken to the hospital so that'll be our first stop when we get back."

"I'm fine," Bellamy argued, once again gulping down his glass of brandy that Phoebe had refilled for him.

"I know you're stubborn but you're not stupid," Kayden argued, making Phoebe smile. "We're going to the hospital. Even Doctor Albert recommended it before he left."

"I don't want to cause a fuss- "

"There is already a fuss, we might as well accept it," Kayden nodded, standing back up. "I'll gather our things; the ride home should be smooth. We have a military escort."

"Perfect," Bellamy sneered, standing up and looking out the window. It was sunny out but the ground still had the early morning dew and frost caked to it. It twinkled in the yellow first lights and for a moment, Bellamy was sucked back in time. The last time he was here was Monty's twelfth birthday party; they stayed up most of the night in the Green gardens and grounds, swimming in the lake, chasing the servant girls, and playing with some of Monty's latest presents. Their favorite was a mini-rover that could reach speeds of twenty miles an hour. They drove it out past the tree line and got it stuck in the mud and stream that first day; Bellamy remembered the look on Monty's face when Bellamy, Jon, Jasper, and Ewan pulled it out in one piece. He also remembers the look on Ichiru and Hannah's face when they drove it back to the house.

They were all covered in mud, just like the rover, and had to go swimming before they could step foot in the house. It was a fun day and it was a turning point for Bellamy in more ways than one. That night was the night he lost his innocence; the night Jon had told them that his mother was sick. They all made a pact that night on Monty's birthday to always be brothers and that was something Bellamy lived for even today. He'd always remember the vow they made to one another and what that meant for their futures and the future of Arkadia. Never before have the children of separate families been so devoted to one another and this house symbolized that bond from all those years ago.

"Are you feeling okay?" Phoebe asked, interrupting Bellamy's memories.

"Just reminiscing," he replied, turning to her. "I wanted to apologize for being rude earlier. I was a little confused and I shouldn't have dismissed you in your own home."

"No apology required," she assured, looking out the window. "I spent a lot of time at this place when I was a girl so I know the feeling. This is where I met your cousin, my husband, Ewan."

"I miss him every day," Bellamy confessed, looking over the frosty hedges and flowerbeds. "We were very close as children. I looked up to him as an older brother."

"You remind me of him," she smiled, handing him a shirt from the chair next to the window. "So does my son, Kazuki. Sophie is more like me…"

"Kazuki will be five this year, correct?"

"Yes, and Sophie turned three a couple months ago," Phoebe smiled, helping Bellamy slip the shirt over his injured shoulder. "She really loved your father's gift."

"Octavia helped a great deal," Bellamy admitted. "But I'm glad she enjoyed it."

"I've got our stuff," Kayden said, coming back in from the adjacent hall. He was carrying two bags and a rifle. Bellamy only eyed him as he set them on the table by the window. "They should be here shortly. Ready?" Kayden handed him his leather Jacket and he slipped it on gingerly, motioning for him to hand Bellamy his pistol and sword. "I'll carry them," Kayden insisted, patting the bag on the desk.

"Fine," Bellamy replied, turning back to the window as the rover came into view down the winding stone and mud road. "They're here."

"Let's go then," Kayden nodded, turning to Phoebe. "Thank you for your hospitality, help, and gentle attentions niece. We shall see you again soon, I hope."

"As do I," she nodded, embracing Kayden before gently hugging Bellamy. "Safe trip and remember, go straight to the hospital." She shot Bellamy a knowing look and Kayden just nodded, a smirk on his face.

They were loaded up in the rover and on the road within ten minutes, the small unit assigned to escort them consisted of two Pike men, two McIntyre, and three Blake, all geared for any scenario. It didn't take long for them to start heading back south after connecting to the main highway off the Green Estate. As forests and streams went by, Bellamy could hear the hum of the engine and the conversation his father had struck up between the soldiers. He'd started talking about hunting so as not to alarm them, solidifying their story every mile of the journey.

It would still be over an hour of drive-time to get back to Arkadia and Bellamy wasn't looking forward to going to the hospital; he hated them. Bellamy also didn't want to run into Clarke, someone he knew would question their story. She would also notice that his wound was crudely stitched together and would need fixed. He could almost see the look of horror and concern on her face. It wasn't long now before Bellamy's wandering mind lulled him to sleep, wedged into the corner with his jacket and sack for a pillow. The sound of a humming engine and whirring tires the last thing he heard before it all went silent.

He was rudely awoken by an explosion, sending him almost lunging from the bench he was sitting on. The rover was grinding to a halt as the soldiers inside checked and loaded their weapons.

"Eyes sharp," the driver said, his hands still firmly on the steering wheel. "The explosion came from ten o'clock, my right. I can see the smoke and burning trees about sixty yards out."

"Hostiles?"

"In the tree line," the passenger said, looking through a set of digital binoculars. "I spot five."

"Up ahead," Kayden called out and Bellamy looked to see that over the road there were large tree trunks. They blocked the road from the forest to the stream, making it impossible for the rover to pass without going over the ditch.

"What's the plan, Major Miller?" Kayden asked, looking at the man in the passenger seat. "We're sitting ducks even if the rover is reinforced."

"We can't jump the ditch so we're going to turn around, take another route," Miller replied, nodding at the driver. He then grabbed the radio from his uniform and pressed the button. "Ark come in, this is Rove Five, reporting hostiles along Northern highway, ten miles out. Requesting orders."

There was a silence as the rover revved and turned about, going back up the hill they'd come down. Bellamy peaked out the window nearest him and could see the tree line where the smoke was coming from. He could also see that the figures inside the tree line hadn't moved at all, even as the rover turned and sped back up the hill. Before Bellamy could say anything, there was another loud explosion, this time shaking the rover violently.

"They've blocked the road again!" the driver yelled, looking up the hill at the tree that had just fallen. The dust cloud rose around them and Bellamy immediately noticed that there were people moving from the forest ahead down the hill toward them.

"They're coming," Bellamy yelled, grabbing his father's bag and pulling out his rifle, pistol, and sword. He ignored the ache in his shoulder as he placed himself near the entrance, checking to make sure his guns were loaded.

"Seven hostiles," Miller called, pulling his pistol. "Here they come!"

Bellamy heard the shouts and the screams and glanced out the window to see enemies, dressed in simple leather and fur clothes. Some held torches and others carried what looked to Bellamy like clay pots and Bellamy immediately froze.

"Explosives!" he said, kicking the door open and knocking one of the enemies over. Bellamy pulled the trigger on his pistol, hitting one of them between the eyes. He shot again, wounding another but the torch he was carrying was quickly picked up by another grounder as Bellamy turned about. There was a shot fired again and the man holding the torch in front of him collapsed to the ground.

"Move!" Kayden yelled and Bellamy dodged just in time to avoid being riddled with bullets. They'd opened fire on everyone, making many scream out in pain and shock before hitting the ground. Blood was pooling about them as they fell and the jars went rolling, some breaking open to reveal gunpowder.

"Don't shoot anymore!" Bellamy urged, pulling his sword and driving it through one of the convulsing men's throats. "It's gunpowder!"

The soldiers jumped from the rover, pulling their swords and shock-batons from their backs. It didn't take long to realize that the people they were fighting weren't fighting back. Most of them were running at them in hopes of a suicide bomb. Bellamy watched in horror as he pulled his sword, pointing it at a frantic man who didn't stop. He ran right into Bellamy's sword and gave out a loud grunt and cry before falling to his knees. Again, the clay pot fell, breaking open to reveal silky black liquid. By the time he realized it, it was too late. A volley of arrows came hailing down from the treetops like falling stars, lighting the powder and oil aflame.

Bellamy felt the heat from the fire as it singed him, catching his pants and part of his jacket on fire. He immediately dropped, rubbing himself in the dirt before looking about at the horrific scene of fire and smoke. There were pots being flung into the fire, exploding and spreading the hot oil all over the ground. Bellamy backed away and then sprinted for the front of the rover, horrified to see Miller clamoring out from the smoke that had filled the inside. The driver did the same and Bellamy immediately began to panic. His father was still inside and he lunged forward, smoke stinging his eyes as he looked for his father. It was Kayden who found him first, yanking Bellamy by the waist and out of the smoking rover.

"Bell!" he yelled, pulling him far enough away that they were in the brush near the ditch leading down to the stream. "Bell, get down!"

Out of the seven soldiers that had come with them, only four had managed to escape the fire and smoke. The Miller had taken control of the situation though, positioning themselves just under the crest of the ditch, laying low like Bellamy and Kayden as arrows went zipping over them.

"Where are they firing from?" Bellamy asked, looking at Miller. "We need to figure out how to gain the high ground before we see more of those bombs."

"They are in the trees, that's a negative," one of the soldiers said, holding his digital binoculars. "I've spotted five so far."

"Kapoor, get those flares up," Miller instructed. "Captain Uba, communicate with the base. Tell them we're being attacked and to bring the fire and bomb squads! Fedorov and I will go for the rover while you two provide cover."

"Give me the rifle," Kayden instructed, staying low as he rolled over onto his stomach. "I'll watch the branches, you watch the brush."

There was a loud pop and a bright red flare that went up signaling danger to surrounding farms and hamlets. Bellamy pulled his pistol out, reloaded it, and peeked over the hill to scan the forest floor. He didn't see anyone by the base of the trees but saw someone within the trees jump down and start sprinting in the opposite direction. Bellamy was tempted to fire while their backs were turned but held off, looking over at his father who was closely watching the treetops.

"Anything?" Bellamy asked, listening to the crackling of the radio as Captain Uba communicated with Arkadia.

"Nothing, no movement," Kayden said, glancing up at Bellamy.

"I saw a couple jump from the trees and take off in the opposite direction," Bellamy sighed, looking back at the major. "Their retreating."

"Cover us, we're going for the rover," Miller replied, motioning for Fedorov to follow. Bellamy opened fire, as did Kayden, covering both the forest floor and the treetops as both soldiers went sprinting up the hill toward the rover. The major reached it first and dove in, quickly situating himself in the driver's seat. He pulled the rover out of the blaze, the smoke cascading out the back and the windows as he did so, turning the rover side face so they could use it as cover. Federov checked for survivors, burned and smoking bodies cooking in the oil and flames. Bellamy saw no more people in the trees or forest and motioned for his father to follow him up the hill to the rover again.

It wasn't long before they'd circled the perimeter and established that whoever had attacked them disappeared. Captain Uba was getting confirmation from Arkadia and Kapoor had caught up with them, assessing the damage to the rover. The fire had damaged a lot of the metal and wiring on the back end and the inside smelt like burnt rubber. Kapoor, however, believed it could be salvaged and fixed. Bellamy turned to speak to his father at that moment but he soon realized that Kayden wasn't there. He was still sitting in the grass and Bellamy felt his stomach sink. There was an arrow sticking out of his calf and the fire had burned a hole in his pants revealing the charred and blood red skin.

"My father's been hit!" Bellamy called, motioning for Kapoor to come to him. The young medic came rushing over and assessed the damage, pulling out a gel from his pack. He also pulled out a vial of clear liquid and dabbed it into a clean gauze pad. His father gasped and hissed as Kapoor tended the wound, being careful not to budge the arrow itself.

"It could be poisoned," Bellamy warned, making Kapoor look at him.

"It's possible," he nodded, looking through his vials and at the wound itself. "I have a few common antidotes but it's tough determining what kind of poison it is with the arrow still lodged in his leg."

"Give me your hand," Kayden breathed, making Bellamy look at him. Kayden grasped for his hand and Bellamy knelt next to him, looking up at Kapoor desperately. "Pull it out," Kayden instructed, ripping a part of his jacket off and stuffing it in his mouth.

Kapoor only nodded, taking a deep breath and quickly jerking it from Kayden's flesh. It bled a little and Kayden's muffled scream was louder than expected; Kapoor was closely examining the arrow now, running his finger over the tip. "Slimy instead of sticky," he commented, sniffing the arrowhead. "It's definitely poisoned. I'll have to test it…"

"It's bloodroot," Bellamy said, making Kapoor look at him uncertainly.

"How-?"

"Because that's what I got shot with yesterday," Bellamy replied, squeezing his father's hand as he removed the cloth from his mouth.

"I don't have the antidote for that poison on me," Kapoor explained, cleaning the wound now. "We'll have to get it in Arkadia. Uba has contacted the base and their sending another convoy for rescue and tracking. We have time to get back without worry."

"I'll be fine," Kayden nodded, moving to stand. Bellamy immediately supported him, allowing his father to wrap his arm around Bellamy's shoulders. Again, Bellamy ignored the pain from his wound as he and Kapoor moved Kayden to the rover.

"It's still operable," Miller ommented, looking about him cautiously as they watched the perimeter. "The convoy should be here soon but I'm not sure how they are getting around the trees."

"HQ said they are sending the new Rove X," Uba replied, his gun poised, waiting for another attack. "It was just cleared for a field-test. They're five minutes out."

"Radio into HQ and tell them Kayden Blake has been hit with a poison arrow and to prep the E.R. for our arrival," Bellamy instructed, looking from Uba to Miller. "Tell them it's bloodroot."

"Captain Uba will radio it in but right now, you both need to rest," Miller reasoned, coming around to face them. "You're both injured and need medical attention."

There was a crackle over the radio then as Uba contacted Arkadia, Bellamy feeling slightly relieved that the hospital would have time to create an antidote if they didn't already have one made. However, he didn't like this situation at all; now there were two attacks and one so close to Arkadia meant that military intervention was no longer a last resort. Bellamy expected the council would enact emergency protocol to implement Marshall Law until the culprits are caught. It wasn't ideal and Bellamy knew that, with all these witnesses, the council would determine that he and his father had been the targets. Being watched more closely, scrutinized and followed from now on was unavoidable and Bellamy knew that this was just the beginning of his problems. He only hoped that his schemes would pay-off in the end; at that moment, he had nothing but blind faith in himself and in the bureaucracy of the council.

Bellamy heard it before he saw it, the whiz of metal as it just missed his chin and sunk right into his already injured shoulder. He let out a groan and then an angry scream as the others rounded to see what was the matter. Miller was the first to turn and see the assassin, poised in one of the trees across the ditch, throwing knives in their general direction trying to hit someone else. Bellamy could feel fire spreading over his chest, shoulder and arms before his spine began to set aflame. Like a wick in a candle the flame followed all the way up to Bellamy's neck and skull, making him drop to his knees in agony. Everything was swirling around him and as gunshots started to go off just above him, he threw up, the pain turning his stomach violently. He doesn't remember anything else, the feel of that paralyzing pain in his shoulder throbbing as, once again, he lost consciousness.

* * *

 **Much love to you, the reader. I do hope you enjoyed the plot twists. Still more to come! R &R please!**


	9. Chapter 9: Uphill Battle

**If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world. -Thorin Oakenshield**

* * *

Bellamy struggled to open his eyes, feeling immediately sore and weak. He didn't know where he was and couldn't remember why he was there. Everything was a blur and for a moment he felt panic start to sink in. That's when the room came into focus and he could feel the needle taped to his arm.

"He's finally waking," came an unfamiliar voice and Bellamy saw a woman, dressed in simple scrubs with her red hair tied up on her head. "He's going to be groggy and confused and probably in quite a bit of pain. I'll get some morphine for him."

"It's tolerable," Bellamy uttered, seeing his mother come into view, her face awash with relief.

"You slept quite a while," Aurora smiled, placing a hand on his cheek. "Over 24 hours…"

"Where's-?"

"He's at a council meeting," she replied quickly, shaking her head. "Don't worry about your father. He is fine; you're not in pain?"

"I'm thirsty and my shoulder and arm ache," he said, looking back at the nurse. "What happened?"

"You were brought into the E.R. with a serious wound to the shoulder," the nurse smiled, grabbing the chart on the table next to the bed. "You received emergency surgery to remove the knife and, just to be safe, you were also given an antidote for the poison. Doctor Griffin should be in to check on you this morning and update you further on your rehabilitation."

"You just need to take it easy for a few weeks," Aurora insisted, making him look at her again. "I know that isn't what you want to hear but it is the only way you're going to heal."

"As long as father is alright," Bellamy sighed, moving his hand to his face. "Does O know?"

"She was here last night with you," Aurora smiled. "She'll be by again today as soon as your father picks her up after the council meeting."

"She doesn't have to miss school for this," Bellamy sighed, moving to try and sit up. The needle attached to his arm pulled tight and the nurse came around to adjust the solution so he could sit comfortably on the bed. He looked up at the nurse, a soft smile on his face, before he spoke. "Could my mother and I get some privacy?"

"Absolutely," she nodded. "Your vitals are looking good and since you're not in pain, I'll wait for Doctor Griffin to arrive before returning."

"Thank you," Aurora smiled at her, turning back to Bellamy and taking his hand. Once the nurse had left the room, she sniffled, tears leaking from her eyes. Bellamy almost jumped out of the bed but the soreness in his shoulder prevented him from moving to comfort her. Instead she stood from the chair and sat on the edge of the bed, wrapping her arms around his torso. Her hot tears soaked the paper gown as he wrapped his one free arm around her.

"Mom," he sighed, patting her head. "It's okay. I'm here, I'm alright…"

"I know I was just so worried," she sobbed, her voice cracking. "I can't imagine losing you; you and your sister are the light of my life. I was so worried that you'd already succumbed to the poison and your father was positive it was all his fault. I was so worried for both of you; I couldn't imagine a world without you both-."

"I'm fine," Bellamy whispered, biting his lip to stop his own tears. He hated seeing girls cry, especially his mother and sister. He'd do anything to make sure they never cried again. "Mom, please, I'm okay. It wasn't anyone's fault but my own. This was obviously a planned attack."

"Your father blamed himself," she cried again, her body wracked as she held him. "He didn't think he'd gotten you to the Green's in time. Your father won't be back for at least a couple hours," she sighed. "He said today's meeting would be long."

"There is no reason you should have had to worry," Bellamy whispered. "This is all my fault."

"Stop beating yourself up," she demanded, her motherly voice coming back to him. He remembered that stubborn righteousness and that firm tone. "You're not responsible for being attacked and you are not responsible for your father's decisions. You are your own man now."

"A man who made the decision to ride ahead of the group and put himself at risk," he replied, his own voice firm. "Even if an ambush was inevitable, I could have prevented this scandal. Now the whole of Arkadia probably knows what happened."

"Not all," she replied, her voice still firm and defiant. "Your father has controlled the rumors but the council knows you've been hospitalized. That is why the council is going to be running later today. There is much to discuss; an attack against the heir to the Blake family on Arkadian soil is a serious problem for every family."

"I can't lay here in bed all day while something like this is going on," Bellamy sighed, looking about the room for his clothing.

"You're not getting up," his mother hissed, standing and grabbing his arm. "Even if I have to tie you down myself."

"I can call for some orderlies to strap him to the bed if you'd like, Mrs. Blake," came a familiar voice and Bellamy's stomach dropped. "It would be within my power to arrange it. I may have to recommend it if he remains a problem."

"Thank you Clarke," Aurora smiled, looking from Clarke to Bellamy. "I hope it won't have to come to that."

"As do I," Clarke commented, pulling a screen from her pocket and looking over his charts. She then turned to the screen hanging above the bed and began scrolling through his vitals and charts. Bellamy watched her a moment, entirely focused on the screen, her jaw set and her eyes alight with understanding as she marked a few things down on the clipboard. She scrolled through some pictures of the wound and that's when Bellamy looked back at his mother, the irritation in his gaze making her smirk back at him.

"Your temperature and heartrate are normal which suggests there is no more poison or infection," Clarke said, pulling the screen around on its swivel so Bellamy and Aurora could see a list of data and an x-ray of his shoulder. "I'll have to check your breathing but as far as I can tell, the clavicle is only slightly cracked, here…"

She pointed to a dark mark that was barely visible on the screen against the white bone. "It isn't much but you will be sore for a couple of weeks and there is a high chance that the wound could break open. Your muscles here are all bruised and cut and with a couple weeks' bedrest and physical therapy, you should be looking at a full recovery. I would estimate, since you're young and physically fit, that it would take four weeks to heal. Until then your arm should be put in a sling and your shoulder should be carefully monitored. We'll set up weekly appointments to monitor progress and I'll sign you up with one of the best physical therapists I know."

Clarke paused here and Bellamy could see her gauging their reactions, waiting for their response. She wasn't impatient about it though, her soft smile and the way she glanced over the information on the screen suggesting that she really didn't care how long they took to discuss it. She then grabbed the stethoscope from around her neck and put the earbuds in, moving closer to Bellamy and placing a hand on his good shoulder.

"Please sit straight up," she said, moving the cold flat scope to his back, just below his injured shoulder. "Take a few deep breaths."

He complied, feeling the warmth of her hand on his shoulder as he breathed, feeling the heat spread to his cheeks. She may have been comfortable but Bellamy felt sheepish and completely exposed. All his plans, everything he'd tried to achieve in the past week, could be killed if he was stuck in bed with this sort of handicap. Clarke must have noticed his frustration and disappointment because she simply sighed, pulling the buds out of her ears and writing something down on the chart. She stepped away and updated the screen above Bellamy's head before turning and looking up at Aurora.

"I know this is not ideal," Clarke began, her deep blue eyes never leaving his mother's face. "I know that Bellamy being injured makes your family vulnerable and if what I've been told is correct, it puts us all in danger. Understand this: an attack on one future council member is an attack on all future council members." Both Bellamy and his mother were stunned silent. This was not what either of them were expecting to hear from the girl in front of them. "Furthermore, as a doctor it is my duty to inform you that if you do not take it easy, stay in bed, and recuperate your strength as I've instructed, you'll most likely have permanent damage that will, as you age, become worse and more painful."

All three of them were silent now, Bellamy's eyes never leaving Clarke's face as she looked at Aurora. His mother was gauging this girl, trying to unravel her mystery but Bellamy already understood. He knew who this girl was, who she would become, and more importantly, he knew what she sought for her future. She wasn't so mysterious to him and the harder he thought over her choice of words, her motives, and her aims, the more impatient he became. It was at that moment that Clarke's deep blue eyes met Bellamy's, his thoughts stopping all at once. The only thing he could think of were those eyes and how they seemed to look right through him.

"I'll give you time to consider it and be back this afternoon to go over your options," Clarke said, her voice even and kind. "I have faith that you'll recover fully if you take my advice."

She then smiled at Aurora and turned from them, leaving the room as the door swung shut behind her. Bellamy was about to say something to his mother but she'd already summed up his thoughts, letting out a long breath before smirking down at him. "She's quite fierce," Aurora quipped. "Her mother was the same way at her age, still is really. Her father was always a passive man though, just as he is today; always the optimist."

"She's up to something," Bellamy scoffed, leaning back onto the bed. "She may seem sweet and kind but she's up to something."

"Did I say sweet and kind?" his mother asked, her eyes going wide in mock surprise. "I said fierce. She's not some air-headed social climber. She's something entirely different and that is what makes her fierce. You should take note; she'll be your biggest opposition in the future."

"Not if I can help it," Bellamy groaned, looking about for something to drink. These next four weeks were going to be the most difficult of his life and he was barely eighteen. He had more to deal with now than he ever has and on top of it, he was stuck in bed unable to make any sort of moves. He was caged within himself and there was no way of escaping it without permanent damage.

* * *

"How is your patient?" Abby asked, catching Clarke on her lunch break as she got dressed to go to the café down the street.

"He'll live," Clarke smirked, adjusting her unruly hair before shutting her locker. "Out for lunch too?"

"Nope, I've got a lunch meeting with a few board members," she sighed. "Ever since I agreed to that promotion it's been nothing but work. One of these days we'll have to plan a vacation, just the two of us and get out of this town. Maybe take a trip to Polis."

"If you can get time off," Clarke laughed, waving at her mother as she pulled the strap of her bag over her shoulder. She was walking down the street toward the café when she heard someone call her name. She was surprised to see Kat and Harper waving at her, walking toward her across the street.

"Hey!" Kat called, meeting her half way as Clarke walked toward them. "I didn't get a chance to speak to you the other night. How are you?"

"Good, just on lunch break from the hospital," Clarke pointed back over her shoulder at the building. "Going to the café down here at the end of the street. They have the best food."

"You mind if we join?" Kat asked, her voice hopeful. "We were just contemplating lunch."

"Very true and I absolutely love that place's pork tortes," Harper commented, licking her lip with a grin. "I know I shouldn't eat so many of them but they are so delicious and cheesy."

"Those are my favorite too," Clarke grinned, motioning for them to come with her. "So, what brings you to this part of town today?" Clarke asked, walking with them down the street again.

"We were at the Blake's Armory," Harper pointed at the shop they'd been standing in front of. "Needed some new rounds and to check out their new stock."

"I just needed a better holster," Kat said, smirking over at her. "You're the one who wanted to spend thirty gold on a new piece."

"Quality over quantity my young apprentice," Harper joked, poking Kat in the arm. "You ever shoot, Clarke?"

"Oh, no," Clarke said, waving her hand dismissively. "I wouldn't be any good."

"Have you tried?" Kat asked, looking at Clarke closely. "I used to be afraid of guns. They were always too noisy and I was always afraid I'd jump and never be able to hit anything."

"You sucked for a while," Harper commented, grinning at Clarke. "She's not that great now either…"

"I've never tried," Clarke admitted, keeping pace with the two taller girls. "I guess I just never really thought about it."

"Everyone needs to learn how to defend themselves," Harper insisted. "Maybe guns aren't your style. Maybe your better with melee weapons or marital arts."

"I've never considered it," Clarke smiled, feeling a bit sheepish. "I guess that is a little silly of me."

"Not at all," Kat replied, placing her hand on Clarke's shoulder. "You're a lover, not a fighter."

Clarke couldn't help but laugh at this, shaking her head and looking down at her feet. "I'm a healer," she corrected, reaching the café. It wasn't as busy as it usually was and she found one of her favorite spots on the patio. She motioned for the other two to sit down and when they did, a waitress came over to take their drink orders.

"Green tea and honey," Clarke said, looking over at the other two for their drink orders.

"Iced sweet coffee," Harper smiled, looking over at Kat.

"Regular iced tea," she decided, glancing over the menu.

The waitress nodded, penning down their order and walking back to the café doors. Clarke enjoyed the sunlight that was coming down. The clouds were big and white, the sky bright blue, and the noise of cooing birds really made her feel like spring was coming to an end. The days were getting hotter and longer and she loved that the city kind of slowed down during the summer months.

"So, do you want to come with us the next time we go to the range?" Kat asked, looking over at Clarke now.

"I think that might be fun," Clarke admitted, thinking that it was past the time she learned to use a gun. The world outside of Arkadia wasn't a friendly one yet as today's surgery and events seemed to reveal.

"Awesome! We were planning on going next week actually," Kat smiled, grabbing her handheld out of her bag. "Oh, I guess it's nine days from now…" she commented, looking at the calendar on the screen. "But yeah, you could totally come with us and try out some of the new models or just get a feel for it."

"You might even like it," Harper nodded, pulling out her handheld.

"This is going to sound rude," Clarke said, looking between the two of them, hesitant to press further. She then locked eyes with Harper, squaring her jaw for the worst. "But, why are you being so nice to me? I got the feeling that you and Monty didn't like me at my party the other night."

"It's not rude," Harper shrugged, leaning back in her chair. As she did the waitress approached, drinks on a tray. She handed them out and then pulled out her notepad to take the rest of their order.

"I'll have the roasted chicken sandwich," Kat said, looking at the menu. "With only mustard, pickles, and lettuce and a side order of fruit."

"I'll have two orders of the pork tortes," Harper said, handing her and Kat's menu to the waitress.

"I'll have an order of pork tortes and a side salad," Clarke said, handing the woman her menu. She then turned to the steaming cup of tea, taking a sip before turning back to Harper.

"Monty probably gave you the impression he hated you and to be honest, he doesn't trust you," Harper said, looking over at Kat and then back at Clarke. "He doesn't trust your family and his prejudices run deep when it comes to you and your people. I tend to lean the same way but I've been encouraged by Kat to give you a chance. At first I thought she was joking but then Monty told me what happened today, at the hospital, with Bellamy."

"You said family names mean nothing under the knife," she continued, pondering Clarke's words from the other night. "That peaked my interest so, I talked to Kat about it. She said, even though she wouldn't tell me details, that you two had come to an understanding with one another. That you were now friends; this peaked my interest even more. So here I am, enjoying lunch with Clarke Griffin, wondering what she plans on doing with this newly formed friendship. And then it clicked…"

"Harper…" Kat whispered, looking sheepish. "You said you wouldn't…

"Clarke is a straightforward person," Harper quipped, looking at Kat. "Her appearance last night and her three dance partners shouted to the entire city that Clarke Griffin is looking for suitors. That isn't really surprising news but the choices were quite surprising. Bellamy Blake, Landell Pike, and Jon Murphy would all be excellent husbands for the only Griffin heiress. Considering that, I had to conclude that your friendship with Kat, who is unexperienced at these games, is a way to gain favor within the Murphy household."

"You've thought this out," Clarke grinned sheepishly.

"That's my job," Harper smiled, leaning back in her chair and sipping from her iced coffee. "I'm not just a gun on the battlefield. I use my mind and what I've come to figure out is that you really aren't as genuine and kind as you'd have us believe."

"You may be right about part of it," Clarke smiled, looking between them. "I am looking for suitors and those three are the frontrunners. However, I would not use Kat or anyone else to get what I want. A marriage is necessary, my only real duty as an heiress is to have Griffin children. I cannot avoid that choice but I can make a fair and honest decision with the information I am given. I may have considered asking Kat about her brother but there is no need when I can speak to him directly."

"But my friendship with Kat is genuine," Clarke continued, taking another drink of her tea. "As I told Kat, I want to end the infighting and pointless violence between our families. I want peace and prosperity for our people to flourish and expand. I want our children to not have to live in fear of both their world and the outside world. Kat mirrors these sentiments and has agreed to help me bridge the gap between our factions by offering friendship. I could not be more grateful or happy to call her friend. I would also feel the same about you, Harper."

The girls sat there for a moment in silence before Harper spoke, her green eyes steely as they looked into Clarke's. "Peace is just a way for hopeless dreamers to feel better about their actions," she replied, crossing her arms. "It takes more than kind words and some loose framework to tie together generations of hatred and oppression."

"Hatred, oppression, vengeance, distrust," Clarke listed, her jaw set. "It will take a strong will and a lot of power to bring about peaceful change. It will also take cooperation which, I can see, will not come easily."

"You expect the McIntyre's, Green's, and Blake's to overlook the past fifty years of dishonesty, competition, and death just so you can be some sort of peace-maker?"

"It's about more than just our families," Clarke pushed, her temper rising. "It is about every citizen in Arkadia. Every victim of gang and family violence that comes into my operating room. It is about our way of life and everything our ancestors worked so hard to build. It is about you, it is about me, and it is about our unborn children and grandchildren who have to live with the decisions we make."

"Always the righteous peacemaker," Harper sighed, shaking her head. "No amount of friendship or kindness can erase the death of family members and loved ones. No amount of planning and peaceful discourse can make up for injustices of the past. You're trying to mix oil and water and it just won't work."

Just then the waitress came walking over, her tray full of food. After handing it out, and offering to refill their drinks, she left, leaving them to their conversation and meal. The three of them ate slowly, staying silent for a moment before Kat finally broke the awkward silence about them.

"Listen, I believe that peace is the best option for my family," Kat said, her voice low. "I believe that a chance for peace is rare and that if given the opportunity, I will take it. Clarke is right; this is about all of us and those of us yet to be born. She may be the daughter of my family's enemy but I have faith that Clarke is more than that. That she sees more than old vendettas and disagreements."

"And what is this plan?" Harper asked, looking over at Clarke. "What fantasies have you filled her head with about the future?"

"I have some ideas," Clarke admitted. "But this isn't just my choice. Each one of us has to make the choice on our own. We have to decide whether or not the way we've been doing things is the right way. We all have to consider what could be done, on each side, to bring about peace. I am just one link in a very large chain."

"So, you don't have any solid ideas?" Harper asked, eating some of her tortes. "You're just going to wing it and crowdsource everyone's ideas?"

"I would love to crowdsource the solution," Clarke smiled, eating more of her salad. "But I'm in a precarious position. I must choose a suitor, as do you. Neither of us can make a move without gaining more power and influence. That is why, before the true politics start within the council, I'd form friendships with my colleagues."

"So that's step one?" Harper questioned, eating another torte. "Becoming friends with every future council member? Good luck with that…"

"If not friends then I at least want them to understand who I am," Clarke smiled, taking a drink of tea. "I also want to know who they are, what they are passionate about. I want the next generation of council members to be more effective than any council before. I believe that starts with understanding."

"And then what?"

"Then, we rule," she smirked. "You don't get it do you? If we can agree on policies, make key decisions quickly and without discord, we could become more powerful than the coalition. We could influence foreign policy to benefit not only our people, but everyone."

"You'd help Azgeda?" Harper spat, disgusted with the idea.

"I'd help them to see that they're way of life is dying," Clarke shrugged. "They and the Lake People have been fighting the commander's coalition for years, generations really. Ever since Skaikru landed, they've wanted nothing more than our deaths. It is clear that their aggressions will never cease; not unless we make them."

"So your proposing to strengthen our own government, uniting our people, to face the grounder threat?"

"As a start," Clarke chuckled, eating a torte. "Listen, we can sit here talking all day about strategy, politics, and old vendettas but it will get us nowhere. You aren't convinced I can be trusted and I'm not entirely convinced you see things the way I do. Maybe we should just start with getting to know one another and see where it takes us."

"You're in for an uphill battle," Harper smiled, drinking some of her coffee. "But, I'm not entirely convinced that your plans will work. There is no harm seeing where this association will take us. I won't oppose you until you become a threat to me or my family. That includes Monty…"

"Monty may not trust me or my family but I know he's a good guy," Clarke admitted. "I know he's not one to let innocent people suffer; that kind of understanding makes me confident that it will never come to that."

"You guys are intense," Kat finally sighed, eating the rest of her sandwich before munching on her strawberries and grapes. "And here I thought we were going to talk about the benefit or boys."

* * *

"This hospital food is awful," Bellamy sighed, pushing around the food on his tray.

"You won't have to eat it for long," Kayden smiled, sitting next to Bellamy in the armchair. He had a wrap around his leg and was walking with a cane, something Bellamy wasn't sure if he was comfortable seeing. Octavia was sitting on the end of his bed, facing the screens above him and marveling at all the charts and numbers. Aurora was seated on the bench near the window, a book in hand. "Did the doctor say when you'd be released?"

"She said she'd come back this afternoon to discuss options," Bellamy grumbled, pushing the tray away. "How was the meeting?"

"Long," Kayden grinned. "The council needed to be briefed on what happened. Since it happened so far within Arkadian borders, it became a homeland security issue. We've sent additional troops to comb the area but they've found nothing."

"What did you tell them?"

"That we were journeying back from a hunting trip at the northern lodge when we were shot at," Kayden sighed. "I told them only basic things, enough to satisfy their curiosity. Most of them seem contented that it was an attack from Azgeda which made them uneasy. It wasn't until we started talking about what to do about it that they finally eased up on the details. Griffin suggested we form an investigation into the attack and that we should tighten the border security from here on."

"That would lead to huge increase in soldiery," Bellamy replied, his eyes slightly wide. "It would violate the treaty we formed with the commander. We're not allowed to increase the size of our military without approval from the ambassadors."

"We've already sent word to Polis," Kayden nodded. "We have no doubts that the commander will allow us to increase the border security. After these latest attacks, within our own borders, he will crack down on Azgeda and Lake People. There might be backlash so I've made preparations."

"But we both know that it wasn't grounders," Bellamy whispered, glancing over at Octavia who was now scrolling through the pictures of the x-rays.

"No one in the council objected to the proposal," Kayden whispered back, leaning in. "We're to host the Azgeda delegation for dinner, and reparations. It will be a perfect time to solidify an alliance with them, perhaps even the marriage we seek."

"I'm so close to convincing Clarke," Bellamy whispered, glancing over at his mother. "I just need a little more time."

"And if she refuses? We can't risk it, not now when everything is so precarious," Kayden asserted, his voice low. "An Azgeda match would suit us better."

"Why are you pushing Azgeda so hard?" Bellamy hissed, making his mother look up from her book. "What really happened?" Bellamy asked, his eyes narrowed.

Kayden's face was full of guilt and Bellamy felt awkward watching him, looking away as if ashamed to see his father's true emotions. "The council wanted to enact Emergency Protocol but I convinced them otherwise. I put my reputation, and my neck, on the line to see an Azgeda alliance. I won't let your stubbornness ruin this chance. I almost lost you, not once, but twice. We need to start taking this seriously…"

"Dad, you didn't-."

"I didn't think, Bell," he whispered, wrapping his fingers around Bellamy's forearm, gently squeezing. "I could have lost you because I was more worried about people finding out about the guns than your safety. I could have killed you…"

"But you didn't," Bellamy assured, squeezing his father's hand over his arm. "I'm alive because of you. You convinced the council to hold off. Everything is entirely my fault anyway. I shouldn't have been so easily brought down. If we'd have just made it those last couple hours on the road, everything wouldn't have escalated so quickly."

"None of this was your fault," he assured, smiling down at Bellamy. "None of it. It was my plan to go north to deliver those guns and it was my plan to have you accompany me. I put you in danger and it is not a mistake I will make again."

"Don't you start to coddle me," Bellamy groaned, pushing his father's hand away. "Mom already does that. I don't need you to do it either."

"What does mom do?" Aurora asked. Bellamy and Kayden both grinned at her sheepishly, her eyes alight with curiosity.

"You coddle me," Bellamy chuckled, looking over at Octavia who'd been pulled from the pictures on the screen to the conversation at hand. "Doesn't she, O?"

"I'll cuddle you," she smiled, moving closer and putting her smaller hand on his injured arm. "Until you feel better."

"Coddle," Bellamy corrected. "Not cuddle; I don't mind cuddling so much."

"Then I'll sit here and cuddle you the rest of the night," she nodded, a look of determination in her eyes.

"You'll have to ask the doctor if you can spend the night," Kayden smiled, moving to sit with Aurora on the bench.

"Mom said Clarke is nice," Octavia nodded. "She said it was my job to make sure Bell doesn't hurt himself again."

"You met her, then?" Kayden asked, looking over at Aurora.

"I told you I did," Aurora smirked.

"You said Doctor Griffin," Kayden corrected, a grin on his lips as he looked down at Aurora. "So, how was she really?"

"Stubborn but professional, polite but reserved," Aurora commented, watching Bellamy's face as she spoke. "What did you think, Bell?"

"She's cunning, smart, and cautious," Bellamy reasoned, poking Octavia in the side, making her swat at his hand playfully.

"She's also striking, even in her scrubs," Aurora whispered to Kayden, making Bellamy's eyes snap to them. "Bell won't admit it but he likes this one…"

"Oh," Octavia smirked, looking back up at Bellamy. "Is she going to be my new sister? I should meet her if she's going to be your girlfriend…"

"She's not my girlfriend," Bellamy poked, making Octavia giggle. "And mom is just exaggerating. She likes Clarke more than I do."

"You remember her O," Aurora smirked, making Bellamy groan slightly. "She was the pretty blonde in the black dress that Bell was dancing with at the museum."

"Her?!" Octavia asked, her eyes wide. "She was so pretty dad. You don't remember her?"

"I do," Kayden nodded, looking back up at Bellamy. "And I'm sure Bell does too."

"Just stop," Bellamy warned, glancing over at his parents. Octavia only laughed before moving to sit next to him, her feet hanging over the bed.

"It's okay Bell," she commented, placing a hand on his arm. "If you like her, just tell her. Maybe she likes you too! I think it would be fun having an older sister. Will you ask her out?"

"Ambitious," Bellamy smirked and Octavia grinned, looking over at her parents who were thoroughly amused by their conversation. The nurse came in a few moments later to take his tray away, greeting the family politely. She even offered Octavia some hard candy which she took gratefully. The nurse removed the tray and put it in the hall, coming back a few moments later to check Bellamy's charts and vitals. Once she was satisfied that he was progressing, she offered to help him to the bathroom. Up until that morning, Bellamy had been using a catheter which made him feel more uncomfortable about Clarke being his doctor. He'd briefly wondered if she'd been the one to put it in and if she'd been impressed by anything she might have saw. Of course, these thoughts were wiped away quickly when he felt the uneasy sensation of removal.

After accepting the escort to the bathroom, and changing his older gown, he made it back to bed. He hated being watched over like a helpless child but he knew there was no avoiding it. He was annoyed that he had gotten himself into this but more importantly, that he had to deal with Clarke as a doctor before he could interact with her in any other way. This was not helping his cause; what doctor wants to be wooed by their patient?

The nurse left the room a few moments later, asking Octavia if she wanted anything to eat or drink. After coaxing an answer out of her she left, leaving the handheld on the desk. It was then that Bellamy turned back to Octavia, motioning for her to come sit next to him. She did and soon the two of them were reading a book Octavia had in her school bag; an old book about a magical school full of witches and wizards. After a few pages of reading Bellamy heard the door to the room open again. He was expecting to see the nurse but he stopped reading all together when he spotted Clarke.

Octavia saw her immediately, springing off the bed and walking up to her. "Hello, I'm Octavia Blake," she nodded at Clarke, motioning to Bellamy. "That's my brother. I told him to stay in bed but he called me mean."

"I would call it smart," Clarke grinned down at Octavia, her eyes alight as Bellamy had never seen them. He'd never really seen Octavia take to someone so quickly, especially someone she barely knew. She was always reserved and cautious when it came to strangers but something about Clarke excited her. Bellamy couldn't help but smile as his sister grinned back up at Clarke, a smug little grin he'd recognized on her face several times before. Clarke offered her the juice that the nurse went to get and pushed Octavia's hair back over her ear before turning to the rest of the family. She walked over to the bed, grabbing the handheld from the desk, and looked at the charts.

"How do you feel?" she asked him, looking up at the screen above the bed again. "Any more pain or discomfort? Lightheadedness?"

"None," he replied, looking up at her before looking back at Octavia. She was glued to Clarke's side, watching as Clarke swiped through more numbers and charts. After looking them over a minute she turned to Kayden and Aurora, smiling softly.

"I don't expect anything less than a full recovery," she affirmed, extending her hand. "Nice to see you again Mr. Blake."

"Likewise, Clarke," his father replied, standing and taking her hand. "My wife told me that we could talk about options for his recovery. Tell me, what do you recommend?"

"As I've said earlier," Clarke smiled, looking over at Bellamy again. "If you take it easy, allow your wound to heal, and do physical therapy, you should have no further problems."

"What's the timeframe look like?" Kayden asked, moving to stand by the bed, opposite of Clarke.

"He'll be in here another night, just to be safe," Clarke smiled. "If there is nothing abnormal, we'll send him home. His only restriction is movement. I'm sorry that the recovery will be confining but he will need to rest as much as possible. If he comes back in once a week, I'll look at his wound and make sure nothing is wrong. I don't expect anything to go wrong considering he's a healthy young man but I do anticipate that he'll have permanent damage if he puts strain on the shoulder. That's why I recommended the sling."

"You mentioned physical therapy," Aurora commented, looking down at Bellamy.

"Yes, three times a week either at home or here at the hospital," Clarke affirmed. "It's crucial that he builds up his muscles after they have healed."

"And you're sure he will make a full recovery?" Kayden asked, looking between Bellamy and Clarke.

"No strain on the shoulder and physical therapy is all that is required," Clarke smiled. "I can also suggest a few in-home nurses to come over daily to clean the wound. It is crucial that you keep it clean."

"I'm relieved," Kayden nodded, looking back at Bellamy. "See, it's not so bad. You'll be back to normal in no time, maybe even in time to start training for the harvest games."

"I wouldn't push the recovery," Clarke interjected, shaking her head. "Though four weeks is an educated guess, it may take longer for him to get used to physical demands. It is a very tricky spot on the human body; always moving and shifting."

"That's why he has to stay in bed dad," Octavia pipped up, a smile on her face. "I'll make sure he does."

"I know you will," Kayden laughed, looking back at Bellamy. "See, you've got two lovely ladies prepared to take care of you. Recovery won't be so bad, will it?"

"I assure you," Clarke said, grabbing the handheld again and writing something down. "I will do my best to make sure he recovers fully." Clarke then put the stethoscope buds back in her ears, moving to examine Bellamy's breathing once more. Octavia watched, fascinated as Bellamy took a few deep breaths, Clarke listening closely. When she pulled away again, Clarke spotted the amused and curious face of the little girl beside her and chuckled.

"How about I get you a set?" Clarke asked, looking down at Octavia. "But understand, it is not a toy. It is an important tool used to listen to important parts of the body." Octavia's eyes went wide and Clarke grinned. She then moved to the desk, knelt down, and grabbed something from the bottom drawer. Once again Bellamy couldn't help but watch her. She was so kind to Octavia, so genuine, and seemed attentive to every one of their needs. Any questions he or his parents could have had she would answer and any curiosities Octavia wondered about she would attend to. She was almost mesmerizing to watch, the way she handed O the extra stethoscope and the way she showed her how to wear it.

"You press this flat part against the chest or the back," Clarke smiled, placing O's against her own chest, breathing slowly. "You hear?"

"I heard thumping and wind," Octavia smiled, her green eyes alight as Clarke explained what it was supposed to sound like, what she was hearing. It was uncanny, the way she seamlessly tuned herself to her audience. She could make anyone stop and think, even someone as young as Octavia. It was endearing and Bellamy, for the briefest of moments, felt a yearning he'd never felt before. Something frightening that caught him off guard, making him tear his gaze from the two girls before him. His father, however, noticed his discomfort and only grinned, pulling Aurora close as she watched her daughter interact with Clarke.

"Now, once a day I need you to check Bellamy's breathing," Clarke smiled, standing straight up now. "You'll press the flat end to his back, a little below his bandages and listen. If it doesn't sound like it should, it means it's time to talk to the nurse. Okay?"

"I can do that!" she nodded her head, moving over to show her mom the stethoscope.

"Thank you for that," Kayden smiled, stepping toward Clarke. "She loves her brother very much and your bedside manner has made all the difference to her. She was so frightened…" Bellamy listened closely now, watching the interaction with interest. It wasn't every day that a Blake and a Griffin were genuinely civil with one another.

"I know," Clarke smiled, pushing the loose curl over her eye back to her ear, making Bellamy's breath hitch. "I saw the look in her eyes after the surgery. She looked positively lost so I had to do something to comfort her. To be honest, Octavia reminds me a lot of me at her age. Always asking questions and quite the stubborn inquisitor."

"Your kindness will not be forgotten," Kayden assured, extending his hand for her to take. Instead, she wrapped her fingers around his forearm and pulled him close, in the way that allies do when greeting one another. The symbolism wasn't lost on Bellamy or Kayden.

"As I told your wife and son earlier," Clarke whispered, so Octavia couldn't hear as she prattled to Aurora about things Bellamy would need for his recovery. "An attack on one future council member, is an attack on all. I will use everything at my disposal to help your son recover and if there is anything else I can do I am happy to comply."

Kayden stood there, their arms locked together in a grip, as he contemplated her words. Neither of them looked away and Bellamy could feel his father's thoughts turning and spinning in his head. Bellamy had warned him of Clarke's determination, her kindness, and her quest for peace; he didn't really believe it until this moment. Kayden couldn't help the grin that spread over his face as they looked at one another, dark, almost black, eyes staring into electric blue.

"You're someone I would be happy to work with," he finally nodded, stepping back, letting go of her arm. "I admire your conviction Clarke Griffin and am grateful for your help."

"Anytime," she smiled, turning to Bellamy now. "Will you allow me to help you?"

Bellamy was stunned at her question, the direct way in which she made eye contact with him a little unsettling. She was issuing a challenge with those deep blue orbs and he knew he couldn't contend. Not in his condition, not with so much at stake. Even if he didn't wish for it to be her, he had no choice. This, to Clarke, was personal and he wondered if that sentiment was genuine or just another move on the game board.

"Will you guys give me a minute with Clarke?" Bellamy asked, his voice lighthearted but his eyes were intense. Kayden shot him a warning look that he was sure Clarke noticed and herded Aurora and Octavia toward the cafeteria for some drinks. Once they left the room, Bellamy sat up straighter, his eyes never leaving hers as he spoke. "What are you pulling here? Why help me?"

"That's a stupid question," Clarke responded, crossing her arms. "I'm a doctor, I help people every day. I already told you how I felt about prejudice but still you question my motives. Would you like a different doctor? I can arrange for someone who's firmly in Blake pockets. I think there is a McIntyre on shift today. She might swap patients with me…"

"Fine," Bellamy gave in, listening to how stupid he sounded once she'd began refuting him. "But leave my sister out of this. She's not a pawn in your game."

"No, she's a pawn in yours," Clarke commented, rolling her eyes at him. "That little girl is an innocent; a child of Arkadia. I would never do anything to harm her, much less her older brother. You need to open your eyes Bellamy. I'm not here to win your family over and I'm not here to make secret pacts or deals. I'm here to do my job and make sure that your stubborn ass doesn't end up a cripple under my supervision!"

She was fuming now, her eyes wild and her hair, he'd sworn, and curled almost twice as much making her seem even more intimidating as more curls seemed to spring loose. She was a force to be reckoned with and Bellamy could feel the irritation and distaste radiating from her. She wasn't going to back down and Bellamy wasn't either. He knew about her list, knew what she was trying to accomplish, and knew that she'd go to any lengths to achieve it.

"You said ass," he smirked, letting out an uneven breath, leaning back onto the bed again. "The princess knows such a vulgar word?" He had to regain his composure or else he'd probably ruin any chance of ever gaining her affection. After all, they were still playing the greater game and Bellamy wasn't going to lose to some other family. He took another deep breath and looked her over, his trademark grin gracing his lips.

"You're infuriating," she said, regaining herself, pushing the stray curl back over her ear again, this time biting her lip to try and stop another outburst. Bellamy almost lost it there, looking away quickly as she looked back at him. "Why do you push people like that? Get under their skin and bring out the worst?" She then paused, assessing him before letting out a long sigh. "Or is it just me you're content to push?"

Bellamy, once again, was caught off guard. She'd been observing him, measuring his words and actions from the second they'd met in the arena less than a week ago. She'd been analyzing his worth, studying his quirks, and beginning to pull back those layers she perceived as armor. It was fascinating to watch her mind working, watching him with expectation as if he could reveal to her some big mystery.

"People are most exposed when you bring out their darkest side," Bellamy quipped, watching her reaction with amusement. "People expose themselves, their true weaknesses, when they're forced to overcome reason and thought. It's a tactic I often employ."

Clarke stood quiet a moment, her eyes on the floor and her lower lip tucked under her upper. For a second, Bellamy thought she was going to cry, something he was not prepared for at all. Though, the thought of those deep blue eyes shedding tears was a picture he'd never considered appreciating until now. However, after a deep breath she looked up at him and he could see no tears. Her eyes were ablaze with excitement and realization, as if she'd discovered the truth to the universe. She then strode forward, leaned down, and only inches from his face, grinned. He could see every shade of blue in her eyes from here. There were flecks of gold and green in spots but the radiant ocean and electric blue make them almost sparkle.

"Harper was right," she said, her voice even and confident. "This will be an uphill battle but it is one I intend on winning." She then placed a hand on his good arm and nodded, squeezing gently. "Don't fight too hard though; I don't want to see you get hurt again." With that she let go of his arm, turned from his bed, and strode from the room, the sound of her footsteps fading down the hall after her as the door swung shut.

* * *

 **Sass and class... hope you enjoyed it my lovely readers. Please R &R. **


	10. Chapter 10: Patience for Patients

**Love is like a virus. It can happen to anybody at any time. - Maya Angelou**

* * *

"I can't stand it," Bellamy groaned, looking up at Monty who was playing on his handheld as he sat next to the bed. Jasper was on the bench, watching out window as Bellamy ranted. "I'm stuck here for another night and I'll have to deal with Clarke for a whole month as my doctor. This is going to kill all my chances!"

"At least your only stuck here one more night," Monty quipped, looking up at him. "And you're looking at this all the wrong way. Clarke is a doctor and from what you said about she and Octavia, she likes to take on everyone's problems. Use that to your advantage."

"Oh that's really appealing," Bellamy laughed. "Nothing turns a girl on more than a man in a hospital dress."

"Who said you needed to turn her on?" Jasper grinned from the window. "Why not appeal to her intellect. She's still on duty, isn't she?"

"Yeah," Bellamy nodded. "The nurse said she'd be in one more time to check on me before leaving for the night."

"Use it to your advantage," Jasper continued. "When she comes back in, apologize and try to catch her interest with something she likes. Be charming and friendly; it's not going to kill you."

"If she doesn't see through it," Monty smirked, looking back up at Bellamy. "What exactly did she say again?"

"I'm here to do my job and make sure your stubborn ass doesn't end up a cripple," Bellamy smirked, leaning his head back and looking at the ceiling. "She's not exactly easy to get along with."

"It seems Harper and Kat would disagree," Jasper poked, making Monty's brow furrow in disgust.

"I can't believe Harper even spoke to her," Bellamy admitted. "I wonder what was said."

"Harper said it wasn't a complete waste of time," Monty said, his voice tight. "She got to know what kind of person Clarke was and she trusts in Kat's judgement. She's on edge and definitely doesn't trust her but she's softening to the idea."

"And you?" Bellamy asked, raising an eyebrow.

"She's arrogant, nosey, stubborn, and hopelessly naïve," Monty sighed, his eyes finding Bellamy's again. "But she's not easy to ignore. It may seem haphazard but there is a method to it all. She's smart and a quick learner; I can't tell if she's mad or a genius."

"How often we mistake the two," Jasper chuckled, moving from the bench to the bed, sitting down and looking over at Bellamy. "She's something new, almost foreign to people these days. She sees the world in a way we can only guess at; she has hope."

"We all have hopes and dreams Jasper," Monty replied tightly. "We all have something to work toward, people to love. Why does she have the right to whine and complain about how it is? What does she really know about the world? She's never even stepped out of Arkadia's walls."

"She's just as privileged as you," Jasper smirked, motioning to the two of them. "But clearly you don't see the world the same way she does."

"She's not the Buddha," Bellamy laughed, shaking his head. "She doesn't recognize the sufferings of the world and renounce her worldly pleasures. In fact, she uses them just like we do. What gives her the right to question the status quo?"

"I don't know," Jasper shrugged, grinning at the both of them. "But what gives you the right to maintain it?"

"It's not just me," Bellamy laughed, motioning to Jasper. "Your family is privileged too."

"Are we here to argue about who's more privileged or are we here to brainstorm this new problem?" Monty asked, leaning back in the chair. "I'm supposed to meet Harper tonight."

"This new problem is going to kill any plans I had," Bellamy groaned, looking back at the ceiling. "I need to figure out how to get the princess to fall for me sooner rather than later." Bellamy hadn't told Monty or Jasper about what had really happened to them. They had no idea about the gun shipment being stolen but they did know about the attacks on the road. Bellamy didn't have the heart, or the plan, to reveal the real problem to them right now. He also doubted that they'd understand his father's reasoning. If there was anyone that they hated more than the Griffin faction it was Azgeda.

"I don't see the rush," Jasper shrugged. "She doesn't seem to be rushing things with the list and I doubt she's ready to marry at sixteen."

"Harper is," Monty pipped up, looking between them impatiently. "Jasper was right. Apologize, be friendly, find out her interests, use all the moves you have to get her to seriously consider you."

"I have no other choice," Bellamy groaned. "I can't avoid her like our original plan. I can't pretend to be disinterested when she's already half-way to hating me."

"Then work with what you have," Monty nodded. "You have an excuse to see her at least once a week. Use it to peak her interest, make her wonder about the real Bellamy Blake."

"What about Murphy?" Bellamy asked, looking between them. "Where's he at?"

"He said he had some plans tonight," Jasper shrugged. "Said he'd be in to check on you tomorrow."

"He's supposed to be helping us. What exactly happened the night of the benefit anyway? I was so busy prepping for my performance-."

"You went overboard, as usual. Murphy spoke to her, danced with her, and intriguingly enough, disappeared with her," Jasper smirked, moving from the bed now to look out the window. "You may have to consider Murphy as a threat if we're not careful."

"Without me at my best, I can't possibly hope to beat out Murphy," Bellamy sighed. "Damn it! This whole fucking plan is crumbling around me."

"Things don't always go as planned," Monty spoke up, looking at his handheld. "But if it is any consolation, we know what she is looking for. We know what she likes and what she doesn't. Look, she's updated the list." He turned his screen around and Bellamy read, starting first with Landell Pike. She'd written a small paragraph of notes about him from the night at the benefit and his overall score had gone up.

 _Seemed a bit shy, very considerate about those around him. Genuinely interested in helping people and is a great father-figure. Seems more hesitant than anticipated to forgive old grudges but is not a fan of cheating or dirty-tactics. Could be a problem in the future if his morals get in the way. Genuine and kind, protective but simple._

"She's thorough," Jasper smiled, looking up at Bellamy. Monty switched to Murphy's profile next, moving so Bellamy could read. When he did he found that Murphy's points had gone up like Landell's but there was a much longer paragraph on his notes. What was worse was that Murphy had moved into the second slot on her list.

 _Still weary of his motives but am grateful that he plays fair. Seems to be ambitious enough to hold his family's interests above others. Not afraid to get dirty and is well connected with the underground scene in Arkadia: sees the world in a different light. Not adversity toward peace between families but will not follow blindly. He's more impressed by actions than words or ideas. Great dancer and adventurous. May turn if given proper incentive: made it clear that he wants to keep his options open._

Bellamy read it over twice before looking up at Jasper. "What does that mean? Keep his options open?"

"Murphy is doing what he always does," Jasper shrugged. "He's never one to pick a side until he's sure it's the winning side. He's also ambitious enough to still consider a match with Clarke. He's not stupid; he knows what that match could do for his family and your back and forth rivalry."

"He's my best friend," Bellamy spat, looking over the profile again. "He's been like a brother to me since we were toddlers."

"Brothers are always rivals," Jasper noted, his voice a little too upbeat. "You two have been competing with each other almost as long as you've been friends. You don't think he'd take this once in a lifetime opportunity?"

"Look at your profile," Monty interrupted, showing them the screen. Bellamy's points had plummeted and there was a paragraph in his notes as well. Not as long as Murphy's but it was the most revealing notes she'd recorded.

 _Intends to try and seduce me. Knows how to manipulate people and will use others: biggest opposition. Seems intent on holding on to old vendettas and grudges. Bloodlust. Somehow knows about suitors on list. Unsure whether or not to drop him from the list. His sister is absolutely precious and I don't want her involved in games._

"Something happened," Monty sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Murphy had to of told her your plans because this was updated last night."

"He didn't know all of my plans though," Bellamy said, looking over the notes. "I told him I suspected who the candidates were but I never told him about the actual list. He had to of figured out that it was more than an educated guess and ratted me out when she approached him with a proposal."

"She approached everyone on the list last night," Monty admitted. "She wasn't trying to be covert about it. She and Murphy got quite a bit of attention on the dance floor. Not to mention, Murphy was probably surprised that he was on her list and pissed that you didn't tell him."

"And neither of you knows what she talked to them about?"

"Probably what she's talked to everyone about," Monty shrugged, looking out the window and then back at Bellamy. "She hasn't kept it a secret that she's sick of the grudges between our families. She hasn't hidden the fact that she wants to end it and turn Arkadia into, as far as I can tell, an empire. She's also made it clear that she needs a powerful husband at her side. Maybe she approached each of them last night with her plans and that is what her notes are about."

"Each note mentioned their views on Clarke's plans," Jasper agreed. "She needs to consider who's really on her side and who is just playing the long game. That's why I don't think she'll rush into making a choice."

"But somehow she knows that I know who she's looking at," Bellamy spat, punching the mattress with his good arm. It still made his other shoulder ache, his temper flaring. "Damn Murphy, he's doing exactly what I would do."

"He's not going to allow you to manipulate him," Jasper shrugged. "He's taking his own path and we can't really blame him. Clarke is one hell of a catch."

"I'm at a serious disadvantage," Bellamy shook his head, looking up at Jasper. "What the hell do I do about this? I can't just let him get away with it…"

"Then win," Monty said, standing up and putting his handheld in his bag. "You've got two options at this point. Try and succeed or try and fail. There is no middle ground here."

"Do or do not," Jasper smirked, quoting one of his and Monty's favorite old movies. "There is no try."

"Exactly," Monty laughed, shaking his head. "Just be nice. It shouldn't be too hard. I'll swing by your place tomorrow after you get home; I'm late to meet Harper. Try not to make it worse."

"You two are lucky I'm in this bed," Bellamy joked, waving at them as they left the room. The sun was setting outside his window and as he leaned back onto the bed, to enjoy the orange hues outside, he heard a knock on the door. He turned his head toward it, pausing a moment before responding. "Come in."

Of course, at that very moment Clarke decided to show up, her scrubs replaced by her normal clothes. Bellamy couldn't help but admire the way the navy blue ensemble really hugged her frame. She simply smiled at him, walking over to the edge of his bed and checking the screen above. Both of them remained quiet as she looked through his charts one last time, her eyes meeting his when she turned back to him.

"Any discomfort?"

"A little," he replied, a sheepish grin on his face. "I feel a little guilty about the way I spoke to you earlier."

"Don't be," she said, raising her hand. "Like you said earlier; you see people's true selves when they get emotional."

"I still want to apologize," he insisted, sighing gently. "I may seem like a completely pompous ass but I know when I'm out of line."

"If you insist," she smirked, looking him over. "But I think that you're just telling me what you think I want to hear."

"Really?" he asked, pretending to be surprised, a grin on his face. "And what is it that you want to hear?"

"The truth," Clarke smirked back, sitting on the edge of his bed, looking over her shoulder at him. Their hands were awfully close but Clarke didn't seem to notice, watching him intently. "Tell me who you really are and what you really want."

"Why would I trust you with that kind of information?" Bellamy asked, his eyebrow quirked and an amused grimace on his face.

"Because you know what my plans are," she quipped, tilting her head to the side as if to challenge him. "And I feel like I don't know the real you."

"Ah, your plans for peace," Bellamy smirked. "I told you I wasn't being offensive that night. I was admiring your optimism; not making fun of it."

"Why don't I believe you?"

"Why would you believe me now? I could make up some sort of story about myself and you wouldn't be any wiser," Bellamy quipped, shrugging his shoulder and making himself wince. He caught the satisfied smile that spread over Clarke's lips as she noticed his discomfort.

"You disappoint me," she sighed, looking at her feet now. "You're exactly who I thought you were."

"And that disappoints you?" Bellamy questioned, his eyebrows raised. "Why?"

"Because I like to think that there is more to a person than their family or outward appearance but you've proven me wrong," Clarke shrugged, glancing back up at him. "You're also a murderer, aren't you?"

"Murderer?" Bellamy asked, his eyes going slightly wide. "I don't-?"

"Downtown, just a few days ago," Clarke replied, her eyes stern but sad. "You and Jon… I don't know why you did it but murdering our own people sickens me to my core. Doesn't it bother you?"

"You wouldn't understand, Princess," Bellamy retorted, seeing the confusion and disappointment in her face. "You've never been downtown, you don't know anything about how the real Arkadia works. Don't point fingers at me just because you've been too ignorant to get your hands dirty."

"I get my hands dirty almost every day," Clarke replied, squaring her shoulders as she turned on the bed to face him. "My hands are stained in the blood of people just like the ones you killed. What gives you the right to take their life like that without any remorse?"

"I'm a warrior," Bellamy affirmed. "A soldier, a knight… I do what needs to be done for those I care for. You weren't there that day, Clarke. I wasn't going to let my friends be hurt…"

"I don't believe you," Clarke sighed, shaking her head. "It was overkill and you know it. I saw the autopsy reports and I talked to a first-hand witness. That boy you guys shot was barely eighteen. He has his whole life ahead of him and you just treated him like a practice dummy; without a care for his life, his humanity."

"It feels good to fight from that high horse, doesn't it?" Bellamy asked, trying to remain calm. He didn't want to scare her away and he didn't want her to hate him even more. He needed to smooth it all out and yelling and arguing wasn't the way to do it. "Listen, it may have been slightly over the top but none of us knew if they had guns and Jasper and Monty aren't exactly the fighting type. I didn't want to hurt them but they left us with no choice, Clarke. I shouldn't have to defend myself when I was only doing what was right…"

"But you feel nothing for the people you killed?" Clarke questioned, her jaw tight and her eyes intense.

"I regret that it had to happen that way but I don't regret their deaths," Bellamy sighed, trying to reason with her. "I don't know why you're so angry at me or why you care about my reasoning. I don't understand you any more than you understand me. Shouldn't that be comforting?"

"I believe all human life is precious, Bellamy," Clarke whispered, her voice sounding slightly cracked as she kept her tight and rigid composure. "I also believe that taking a human life is no small matter, especially for the killer."

"A moment ago, you were angry that I was a murderer, the next minute you're sympathizing with my trauma?" Bellamy asked, completely bewildered. "What game are you playing?"

"I'm saying that maybe your punishment for taking lives hasn't quite caught up with you yet," Clarke sighed, placing a hand on his arm, making his eyes narrow. "Maybe it's just something you'll have to live with but I'll tell you truthfully; your bloodlust will be your downfall."

"Why do you care?" Bellamy asked again, this time a little more forcefully. "Why do you care if I suffer for murdering some low-life gang members? Why do you consider it to be so offensive in the first-place?" Bellamy then smirked, making her eyes go wide. "Has something caught your interest?"

"I know that you know about the suitors I am considering," Clarke replied, letting go of his arm. "I don't know if you're just that smart or if they were lucky guesses but either way, you know I am considering you as well."

"I think all of your suitors know about your intentions," Bellamy confirmed, watching her closely. "You're not exactly subtle about it."

"No need," Clarke shrugged, glancing back at him. "Everyone knows I'll be seeking a husband soon so I might as well use that openness to my advantage. Gives me the opportunity to be blunt with each suitor."

"And that's what you're doing right now?" Bellamy couldn't stop the smile on his face. "You're confronting all the problems with me all at once so you can quickly rule me out, is that it?"

"I think we both know that a match between us is impossible," Clarke smiled, looking over at him now, her eyes wandering his face slowly. "I'd had hope but after speaking to Jon, I think I'll have better luck elsewhere."

"Jon Murphy?" Bellamy laughed, watching her reaction as he sighed, pushing his hair back from his eyes. "Use your head Clarke. He's not powerful enough to help you bring about peace."

"If I were to marry him it would discredit the entire Blake family. Even the Blake's most loyal allies would rather back a Griffin," Clarke whispered, a matter of fact tone hiding the uneasy storm brewing in her eyes. "That could ruin you and anyone who associates with you. You can pretend that you'll be fine," Clarke commented, looking back over at him. "But you'll never bounce back from it."

"And what if I revealed your intentions?" Bellamy asked. "And promised to oppose you at every chance I got. What would you say to that?"

"I'd say that soon the Blake name won't mean anything more than the paper it is written on," Clarke nodded, a disappointed haze in her eyes. "We can play this kind of game and we can both put our families on the line for it but I think we both know that neither of us would get what we wanted."

"The Griffin family is in more of a bind than the Blake," Bellamy grinned, looking back out the window at the orange and red of the setting sun. "I could go on and on with you all night about the consequences of a war between our families and the crisis that would cause. However, I think that we can agree that neither of us wants that to happen."

"Then tell me why your so opposed to peace?" Clarke asked, her eyes narrowed. "Even if we didn't marry, we could still work together to ensure that Arkadia prospers and grows."

"Marriage? You've put me on your list but who says I'd have you?" Bellamy smirked, leaning toward her curiously. "Why would I want you to mother my children and share my bed?"

"I never said I'd want you either," Clarke protested, her brow furrowed in annoyance. "I said we should work together no matter what happens."

"Peace between the Griffin and Blake family," he pondered, leaning back against the bed again. "What's to prevent us from breaking this peace?"

"What guarantees do you need?" Clarke asked, her eyebrows raised in hopeful curiosity.

"Well, if we were married our children would have my name," he smirked, watching the blush rising in her neck and cheeks. "And I'd never harm my children."

"You'd never name them Griffin either," Clarke hissed, regaining her composure.

"You never know," he shrugged, looking out the window. "I'm not a monster, you know?"

"You were willing to use Jon Murphy to elevate your standing with me," she replied, sounding cross. "You were willing to put your own interests above the interests of your friends. You are also willing to use your friends as justification for murder. What could you be other than a monster?"

"You're quite the hypocrite," Bellamy scoffed, the anger evident in his voice. "You're willing to befriend everyone on the council just to push your own agenda through, aren't you? Face it princess, we're two sides of the same coin."

"I'm nothing like you," she spat, her eyes alight with indignation. "I'd never use my friends to push my agenda. I'd never manipulate people's feelings, or families, to get what I want. I want to work with my friends to create a future we can all be proud of and that our children can prosper in. I'd value their opinions and beliefs, unlike you."

"I don't manipulate people whenever I please," Bellamy replied, obviously offended. "Unlike the others, I have bigger plans for my family and our people. I don't need you, a newly minted heiress, telling me who I am and what I should do when it concerns my own family."

She was silent for a moment before looking back at him, her voice softer as she spoke. "What are your plans, then?"

"Nice try princess," he grinned, looking out the window again. "You know; your bedside manner isn't all that great."

"I'm off duty," she smirked, turning on the edge of the bed to look out the window too. Bellamy didn't look back at her for a few minutes but she never moved, watching the sunset as he did. When he did turn back to her he could feel his breath hitch in his throat. Clarke's wild blonde waves reflected the golden sunlight so much that it seemed there was a halo of light about her. Her blue eyes were almost glowing in the setting sun as she watched the horizon, biting her bottom lip. She was obviously far away at that moment, thinking about something Bellamy could only guess at. When she realized he was looking at her she turned to face him, her blue eyes meeting his. For a moment, she just sat there, eyes on his, lips naturally pouting as she considered him again.

"Do you think I have a chance?" she finally asked, her eyes never leaving his.

"At what?" he asked, a bit breathless at the way she was looking at him. He'd never been looked at like she was looking at him now. It was such a mix of emotions that he couldn't make sense of what she was actually asking him. She looked so hopeful but the uncertainty overwhelmed her and was itself overwhelmed by curiosity. The emotions just turned and changed over and over again as he stared at her and when she realized he didn't understand she smiled; a radiant smile that warmed Bellamy to the core.

"Peace," she sighed, moving to place a hand on his forehead. He almost jumped at how swift she was, the warmth from her own hand making him look away, a slight blush coming over his neck and cheeks. "You're a little warm; is it too hot in here?"

"It's a little warm," he grimaced, glancing up at her. She realized his meaning and blushed, standing from the bed quickly withdrawing her hand.

"Sorry," she said, shaking her head.

"I think you have a good chance," Bellamy smiled, feeling a bit disappointed that she'd sprung up like that. "If you didn't, I wouldn't be trying so hard."

She contemplated his words for a moment before she smiled back, nodding in understanding. "Right," she chuckled, glancing back out the window.

"Listen," Bellamy sighed, gaining her attention again. He didn't know why but her eyes on him made every nerve tight, his mind racing with what he wanted to say and how he would say it. "I know you don't like me but you have to realize that we are all playing the same game. I cannot, and will not, put someone else's interests above my family's. No one who plays this game would. If you don't understand that, you may have already lost this battle."

"I understand the rules," Clarke said, moving closer to the bed again. "But I don't play by them. I'll make up my own rules."

"That's dangerous," Bellamy warned, his brow furrowed. "There are lines that just shouldn't be crossed."

"These rules are what trap us in this constant flow of animosity," Clarke pleaded, her eyes alight with conviction as she spoke. It was even more stunning and Bellamy didn't have the will to stop her. "Our families control three quarters of the businesses, military, farming, and government sectors of Arkadia and what do we do with such power? Use it against one another! The only people who are really hurt by such stupidity is the innocents who get caught up in the crossfire. We have to end it… there has to be more to living than that."

Bellamy didn't have the heart to poke holes in her theory. He didn't have the heart to really say anything. Clarke's deep blue eyes were brimming with unshed tears and he realized that she wasn't just saying these things. She wasn't trying to convince him for the sake of her family but of every family in Arkadia. He hadn't realized, until now, that she truly believed peace was the answer. She must have realized she'd let her emotions get away with her again because her brow furrowed and she rubbed her eyes with her palms, a weak grin coming over her lips.

"Why do you do that?" she whispered, more to herself than him. Bellamy couldn't help but smile at this. He'd thrown her off guard again and this time instead of being angry, she was fascinated.

"I told you," he whispered back, his voice soft and sincere. "People reveal their true selves when their emotional."

"You don't play fair," she laughed, a tear falling down her cheek quickly. She wiped it away and nodded, determination returning to her eyes. "I'll just have to try harder. I'm glad I was wrong about you though; you _are_ more than you seem."

"Oh?" he asked, a shy grimace coming over his lips before he could stop himself.

"There's something buried underneath all of that bravado and cunning," Clarke nodded, a soft smile spreading over her lips, her cheeks turning pink as she spoke. "I'm determined to see it for myself; you can be cruel but your devoted to your family, especially to your sister. I want to get to know that Bellamy Blake and I'm going to have work harder than I ever have to get you to let your guard down."

"You're confident," he smiled, looking her over one more time, mesmerized by the woman in front of him. "But I think I should warn you; I'm not going to lose to Murphy or Landell. I'll have to work harder than I ever have but I will get you to choose me."

"Now who's confident?" she asked, her eyes wide as the corners of her mouth twitched into a smirk.

"We can make a deal," Bellamy replied, a cool grin on his face. "You show me yours and I'll show you mine."

"You've already seen enough," Clarke replied quickly, looking anywhere but at him.

"True," Bellamy agreed. "You've shown me who you are more than once so maybe I should even the odds."

"Don't patronize me," she said, still not looking at him. "I let myself get carried away but it won't happen again. I can still beat you, even with a handicap."

"Pity," Bellamy sighed, locking eyes with her as she glanced at him. "I like you when you get carried away."

"You're horrible," she whispered, looking away.

"I think you mean awesome," he retorted, a smirk on his face. "Are you blushing, Doctor Griffin?"

"Shut up Bellamy," she snapped, looking back at him now. "Or I'll give you a sedative."

"That's not very professional," he quipped, seeing her eyebrow twitch slightly in annoyance. "You could at least give me something good."

"You're an asshole," she repeated, shaking her head.

"You love it."

"Good night Bellamy," she waved, turning from the bed quickly and walking toward the door. Just as she was about to open it there was a knock, making her pause and look back at him. He looked just as confused as she was. Visiting hours were almost over so he couldn't imagine who it could be.

When she swung the door open Bellamy immediately felt his stomach drop. The familiar redhead, Monroe, stood in the doorway. She was wearing a particularly alluring outfit and Bellamy couldn't stop himself from cringing. Clarke only smiled, stepping aside for her to enter. Monroe gave her an astounded look and walked past, spotting Bellamy and waving slowly.

"I wanted to come see you sooner," she said, crossing the room.

Bellamy could only see Clarke's blush and the hint of a grin on her face before she left the room, Monroe turning as the door swung shut.

"That was weird," she admitted, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking at him. "Why was she visiting you?"

"She's my doctor," Bellamy explained, grinning up at her. As usual, Monroe had awful timing.

* * *

"I'm glad you got my message," Jon said, leaning against the frame of the door that lead into the dimly lit restaurant.

"A messenger delivered it at work," Clarke smiled up at him, tightening her bag on her shoulder. "I barely had time to run home and change."

"You look great," he nodded, looking over her outfit. She wasn't sure if she'd went too far, considering she was never really good with choosing a look. However, the navy-blue dress hugged her curves nicely and the white lace shawl that hung over her arms accented the simple flats she'd decided to wear.

"Thanks," she replied, pushing her hair back over her ear. "I was surprised you wanted to meet again so soon and in such a public place."

"Why do you say that?" Jon asked, offering her his arm. He was wearing a simple slate gray tunic and black pants, the orange Murphy "M" embroidered on his collar. She admired the simple look, thankful he didn't decide to dress up any more than he was. She'd have felt completely embarrassed to show up underdressed.

"You did say you wanted to keep your options open," Clarke shrugged, taking his arm gently. "I assumed you meant that in more ways than one."

"Oh," he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck, some of his brown locks falling over his forehead. "I only meant that in regards to all the political stuff. My personal life is entirely different. I'm surprised you agreed to meet tonight, to be honest."

"Surprised?" she asked, looking up at him as she walked her into the building. The hostess smiled at them as they approached and after giving them the name on the reservation she immediately escorted them to a nice table, in a private area by the window. "Why were you surprised?" Clarke asked again after the hostess had seated them.

"You had to work today," Jon smiled, looking down at the menu on the table in front of him. "I can't imagine it's easy work."

"You'd be right," she smiled, glancing down at the menu and then back at him. "But it wasn't so bad."

"No surgeries today, huh?" he asked, placing his arms on the table, watching her hopefully.

"No, no gory wounds to sew up today," Clarke chuckled, seeing the disappointment in his face. "But I did have a couple of cases of flu and one particularly gruesome dislocation."

"Gruesome, huh?" he asked, as the waiter came over. "What'll we have to drink, then?"

"Good question," Clarke smiled, looking from the waiter to the menu. It had a decent wine selection and a whole page of mixed drinks and ales. After combing through the names Clarke set the menu aside, looking back at the waiter. "I'd like a glass of the sweet red."

"Make that two," Jon smiled, pushing aside his menu. After the waiter left he reached into his pocket, pulling something out and setting it on the table. It was a braded bracelet, orange and black, with the initials J.M. on it. Clarke eyed it curiously as he pulled something else out of his pocket, no doubt the object he intended to find. It was a ribbon wrapped box with a small flower tied onto the top. Clarke's eyes went wide when she saw it and Jon laughed, holding up his hand.

"Don't freak out," he assured, putting the small braided bracelet back in his pocket. "It's not what it looks like."

"We should at least finish dinner before you ask me to marry you," Clarke chuckled, shaking off the sudden fear that gripped her.

"We should but this isn't from me," he smiled, handing the box to her. "Kat said to give it to you. She also said to tell you that she's sorry for earlier."

Clarke just looked at it and smiled, pulling the ribbon apart and setting the small flower to the side. She popped off the lid and when she saw what was inside she smiled, glancing from the box to Murphy. She could see he was curious so she turned it around to show him the trinket within. It was a silver chain and linked to it was a tiny charm in the shape of a peace symbol. Clarke could immediately tell that it wasn't something that could be bought in a store; Kat had made this herself.

"Your sister is talented," Clarke smiled, picking up the small metal charm and observing it closely. "It looks like she used wire to shape the symbol; I love it."

"She makes me things all the time," Jon smiled, looking at the necklace in Clarke's hand. "I think she likes you."

"I like her," Clarke laughed, grabbing the chain and finding the small clasp. Jon stood up now, moving behind her and taking the ends of the chain from her fingers.

"Here," he said, leaning over her close enough to feel his breath as he spoke. Clarke let him take the chain and pulled her hair up on top of her head, tilting it slightly so that she wouldn't hit Jon in the face with her blonde curls. After he clasped it around her neck he let it fall over her shoulder and chest, coming around to sit in front of her again. Just then the waiter came walking over with the two glasses of red wine, setting them down in front of them and asking them for their order. After each of them ordered an entrée, the waiter left to attend to the next table, leaving them in silence as they smiled at each other. Clarke broke the silence first, yearning to confront him about the incident downtown.

"I don't mean to be rude but there is something I need to ask you about," Clarke began, watching him as he leaned forward on the table to listen closely. "I performed surgery the other day on a boy who was shot downtown. He said you and Bellamy were there and it was your handiwork on his comrades. I already confronted Bellamy but I needed to confront you as well. I needed to know why you did it, why you went so over the top and-."

"I'm going to stop you right there," Jon smiled, raising his hand. "That day was entirely my fault; I told them about a business venture downtown I was investing in and they wanted to go see it. I didn't try to stop them and I didn't bother to try and blend in and as a result, things got out of hand."

"Are you just trying to defend Bellamy?" Clarke asked, her eyes wide.

"No, not at all," Jon assured, shaking his head. "We both killed someone that day in, what I would describe as, an enthusiastic way."

"And you're okay with that?" Clarke questioned, confusion written all over her face. "You're okay with that kind of senseless violence and murder? The loss of lives?"

"I didn't say that," Jon replied, taking a sip of his wine. "I'm not okay with senseless violence and murder but I wouldn't call what we did senseless."

"And why is that?" Clarke asked, taking a large drink of her wine.

"The men who approached us were your father's men, right?" Jon asked, a curious grin on his face. "Do you seriously think that they wouldn't have taken the opportunity to ambush four enemy noblemen on their territory?"

"But what you two did…"

"It was a little too much," Jon nodded, watching Clarke closely. "But what did you prefer us to do? Run away? Take the beating? You've met Jasper and Monty… they can handle guns but against four clearly bitter gang members? No."

"But you don't care that they were Arkadian lives? You don't feel any remorse for what you did?"

"Bellamy and I are simple guys," Jon shrugged, taking another drink for wine before refilling both their glasses. "We like the thrill of a fight and we're good at it; you can't blame us for going above-and-beyond when it comes to this kind of passion. Have you ever really paid attention to the arena games, Clarke?"

"They make me uneasy," Clarke admitted, feeling a bit sheepish. She wasn't pleased about that turn of events because she was supposed to be making him feel guilty.

"That's nothing to be ashamed about," Jon assured. "But I'm not trying to make excuses. We provoked them, they provoked us and we won. The loss of life is regrettable but I won't deny that it also helps us. All the gangs know what happened by now and all that has done has made your side look weak."

Clarke sat there stunned for a moment before she sighed, taking another drink of her wine. "I just don't understand that way of thinking," Clarke admitted. "I was prepared to be mad at you like I was at Bellamy but now I don't know anymore."

"You don't have to agree with it," Jon offered, watching her with a soft smile on his face. "But you can't expect everyone to believe in only bloodless solutions. It's human nature to want to fight; we do it every day."

"But it shouldn't be your first choice," Clarke pressed, her eyes finding his. "Bloodshed should never be the first choice, especially against your own people."

"It wasn't, they approached us and became violent," Jon pointed. "But I understand what you're saying. You'd rather not see any more bloodshed within Arkadia, right?"

"It would be nice…"

"You also don't want to be with someone who resorts to violence as the first answer," Jon reasoned, making Clarke blush slightly.

"I thought that'd be obvious," Clarke mumbled.

"It is," he chuckled, making her smile up at him.

"So, what did you do today?" Clarke asked, taking a sip of the wine, trying to change to the subject. "Did you have to work?"

"Nope, I'm off duty for a couple weeks," Jon smiled, picking up his own glass. "But I did have an interesting day."

"Care to elaborate?" she teased, sitting back in her chair. She was enjoying this date so far and was surprised she was. She felt so nervous when she received his message to have dinner that night and she was almost positive it'd be awkward after she mentioned what had happened downtown.

"Well, it may not be to your taste, princess," he began, taking a drink of his wine. "But I was at one of my favorite establishments Downtown."

"Never been to that part of town, you know," she admitted, leaning onto her elbow, resting her chin on her palm. "What kind of establishment?"

"The seedy kind," he chuckled, setting his drink back down. "It's a rough place for gambling and whores."

"And which do you prefer?" she asked, shooting him a playful glare.

"Gambling," he nodded, his baby blue eyes twinkling with mischief. "I've won a small fortune at their tables and today I made out better than I ever have."

"Didn't picture you to care too much about money," Clarke admitted, watching him calmly.

"I did use some money to gamble with but the prize was actually much bigger than that," he smirked.

"Tell me," she urged, her interest peaked. He watched her for a moment, an amused smile on his face before he shrugged his shoulders, giving in to Clarke's curiosity.

"Lat week I had won so much from the house that the owner actually called me on it," Jon smirked. "I told him I'd wager everything I'd won from him over the past year if he could beat me. He put the deed to the establishment up as his end of the wager. Unfortunately for him, I won…"

"What game?" Clarke asked, grabbing the stem of the wine glass and bringing it to her lips.

"Poker," he chuckled. "I have a great poker face. Today I officially took ownership after he signed the deed over to me."

"So you're now the proud owner of a brothel?" Clarke asked, a bit skeptical.

"You don't have all the facts," Jon grinned, shaking his head. He glanced about them and then leaned in, Clarke mirroring him instinctively. "This particular seedy establishment is one of the few spots in Arkadia that gang leaders frequent. They do business there, so to speak. Now, in order for them to conduct their various businesses, they have to clear it with me."

"Genius," Clarke smiled, her eyes alight with understanding. "Who owned it before? What are you going to do with it now? How are you going to-?"

"One question at a time, princess," he chuckled, taking another sip from his glass, glancing around. "The previous owner is a small time smuggler. He opened the establishment under the protection of the gangs who frequent his whores and tables. According to his information, which was reluctantly given, the three gang leaders that frequent his establishment are all from rival families."

"Which families?" Clarke pressed, her voice low.

"One gang operates under the Blake family moving guns," Jon whispered, leaning closer. "The other is a growing gang under the Jaha family operating as loan sharks. They've made quite a bit of money off the poor who get forced to use their services."

"Wells would never…"

"It isn't Wells," Jon said, shaking his head. "No, these gangs run as a loose network of affiliates. Wells and his dad probably know they exist but the general rule with these kind of dealings is to not ask too many questions. Most of these kind of gangs have one main goal; to fuck over their rivals."

"I would never-."

"You should let me finish," Jon urged, his voice a whisper. "The final gang is a bigger fish than the other two. They operate under the protection of your family." Clarke could feel her jaw tensing, knowing full well what agenda her father could be pushing. "They peddle prostitutes and drugs; hard drugs like opioids."

"I'm not surprised," Clarke whispered back, feeling the shame as her cheeks turned red. "My mother is well connected within the hospital, especially with the research and development labs that create the prescription drugs."

"No judgements," Jon assured, seeing her embarrassment. "My family owns two gangs within the city too; pushing black market items like ammunition and rare minerals." Clarke's eyes met his now and she could see he genuinely meant to make her feel better. She gave him a strangled smile before sighing, regaining her composure by taking a large drink of wine. Jon just let out a laugh, taking a drink from his own wine before continuing on. "But that's why I wanted to meet you tonight. I wanted to tell you about this because, believe it or not, I think I may be able to use this prize of mine to help you."

"Really?" she asked, her eyes wide. "Why would you want to help me?"

"Well, as it happens I already have a few dealings with the Blake family," he explained, leaning forward again. "And by tomorrow morning, every gang in Arkadia will know that I own The Starlight Lounge."

"Starlight Lounge?" Clarke laughed, covering her mouth as she did. "That's a horrible name."

"One of the many things that need changed," Jon admitted, drinking the rest of his wine. "But once the gangs know that management has changed, they'll want to know where I stand. Since I already have the Blake's business, I wanted to approach you first to see if maybe the Griffin family wanted to work with me on the new lounge. As I told you, I want to keep my options open and working with both sides seems to suit me."

"Work with you…?"

"Unofficially," he nodded, his voice low as he glanced around him. "These kind of establishments usually run on a system. The house is backed by their sales and cut of the gang business, making it easy to hide cash flow. Since management has changed, the three gangs that run their businesses out of the lounge will expect to hammer out a new deal with the owner. Probably try and get a better deal with the new and inexperienced owner."

"Since I plan on moving the two gangs I control to my lounge for muscle and business, I need someone who can convince the other gangs to continue their dealings alongside mine," he explained, watching her face closely to make sure he didn't lose her. She simply nodded at him, a sly grin spreading over her face.

"And you think I'll be helpful?"

"Immensely," he assured, watching as the waiter came back over to refill their wine glasses. He told them their food would be done soon and once he disappeared again, Jon continued, his eyes alight with excitement. "If you could accompany me to a meeting with the Pike and Griffin associates it would be more than enough to show them that I've got your endorsement. That'll insure that terms remain fair and that business will continue as usual."

"You want me to publicly endorse some seedy brothel and game house?" Clarke asked, her eyes wide.

"Not publicly," Jon laughed, taking a sip of the newly poured wine. "It would be a private meeting and in exchange, I'll make sure to push your agenda for peace."

"Doesn't seem like a fair exchange," she admitted, taking a drink of her own wine, watching him closely. "I have to attend a meeting with gang leaders who will inform their bosses that I am working with Jon Murphy to maintain the black market. The black market run by gangs that incite violence to thwart rivals whenever it suits them. Do you honestly think my father wouldn't find out?"

"Not necessarily," Jon grinned. "Everyone in Akradia, even the lowest of peons amongst the shadiest gangs, knows that Clarke Griffin is newly named the Griffin heiress. Everyone and their grandmother knows that you need to prove yourself in society with all the politics and marriages. They also need to know that you've come into your own; you still need to prove that you are capable of stepping into your father's shoes in every aspect of society."

"I don't understand what that has to do with my father finding out," Clarke said, confused by his explanation. The waiter was walking toward the table with their meals when Jon grinned at her, turning to admire the dishes in front of them. After the waiter made sure everything was to their liking, he moved to a newly arrived table leaving them to their meal and conversation.

"I'll just give the impression that your father sanctioned your involvement," Jon chuckled, summing up his meaning while peppering the fish he'd ordered. "They won't question it if your there in person."

"That still doesn't seem like a fair exchange," she commented, pouring some of the dressing over her grilled chicken salad. "What do you mean by push my agenda? Who are you going to push it to? The gangs?" She grinned at this, poking at her chicken before taking a bite.

"You think that's silly?" he asked, his eyebrow raised as he pushed some of the rice on the plate around. "You have to start somewhere, princess."

"I didn't say it was silly," she replied in between bites of food, their conversation slowing as they ate. Clarke didn't realize she was that hungry; she hadn't eaten since lunch that afternoon with Kat and Harper. After they'd finished about half of their food, they each took a drink of wine, grinning at their similar eating habits over the rims of their glasses.

"If it's not silly, why so skeptical?" he asked, leaning back in his chair and poking at the vegetables in the rice.

"I only meant that they aren't known for their kind-hearted nature," Clarke replied, eating one more piece of chicken before setting her fork down. She wiped her mouth with her napkin now, watching Murphy as he took another drink of his wine. "How would that even work?"

"Well, once business is running as usual we can control the flow of product," Jon explained. "This place works as a cache for them to store not only money but merchandise. We can control the violence this way. By being directly involved with every aspect of their business we'll have the power to influence their decisions. It's the perfect way to maintain the balance while simultaneously saving lives."

"You've really thought this through," she finally said, after taking a drink of wine and considering his words. "Overall, I like it. I'm skeptical about meeting with these gang leaders but I like the overall scheme."

"You'll be protected," Jon assured, watching her closely. "I wouldn't put you in danger if that is what you are worried about."

"Not at all," she laughed, shaking her head. "I'm not worried about anything like that. I'm worried about my father aborting our plan while it's still in the womb."

"Why would he?' Jon asked, his eyebrows raised. "From what I've gathered, your father is a pretty passive guy. He might even approve of you taking your first steps towards real influence."

"You don't know Jake Griffin," Clarke whispered, her eyes narrowing on him. "He's always perceived as passive and agreeable and though he's the kindest father I could ever wish for; he's not entirely detached. My father can be direct, aggressive, and sometimes mad when it comes to protecting his legacy."

"How so?" Jon asked, his eyes growing wide as she spoke, the tone of her voice obviously betraying the admiration she had for her father.

"Think about it," she grinned, looking him over. "You ever wonder why I was pushing to find a suitor so suddenly?"

"Not really," he shrugged. "I mean, I just assumed it was because you'd been named the heiress."

"That's exactly why," she nodded. "It isn't really a law but in order for me to officially ascend I need to have a husband, a guarantee that the Griffin name will continue. My father, in his gracious wisdom, has given me a very limited timeframe to make this decision."

"I thought you said he was kind?" Jon laughed, leaning back in his chair, his smile betraying the obvious disbelief in her story.

"He is," she sighed, drinking the rest of her wine. "But on this he will not budge. I cannot figure out why but even my mother is in agreement."

"This is unbelievable," Jon laughed, shaking his head. "No wonder you're pushing this peaceful solution so hard."

"You're the first suitor I've put everything on the table for," Clarke warned, her jaw set. "Since you're the poker expert, I know I can't bluff my way around you. I'm hoping you'll understand and stick by your words from last night."

"I say what I mean," Murphy smirked, leaning toward her. "And mean what I say. I play fair."

"Then you must have the best luck in the world," she nodded, extending her hand. Jon looked at it with amusement before moving to shake it. Clarke moved forward again now, wrapping her fingers around his forearm the best she could, the size of them larger than she'd anticipated. Jon understood now and grasped hers, tightly but gently, the warmth of it sending chills up Clarke's arm.

"I'm glad you agreed to meet me," Jon nodded, a smile on his face. "I think we could be dangerously efficient business partners."

"I'd have to agree," she replied, letting go of his forearm now, leaning back into her chair. "This is the best date I've ever been on."

"This is a date?" he asked, his eyes wide as he feigned surprise. "Had I known I'd have brought flowers."

"You brought me a necklace," she retorted, placing her fingertips on the small charm. "But I don't really have anything to compare this date with; it's my first."

* * *

 **Oh my... Clarke's first date is with Murphy?! Yeah... that wasn't expected, was it? Thanks for reading! Please review!**


	11. Chapter 11: A First Time for Everything

**When you play the game of thrones, you win or you die. There is no middle ground. - Cersei Lannister**

* * *

"Really?" Jon asked, his eyes genuinely going wide in surprise, his jaw falling a little slack.

"Really," she replied, shrugging her shoulders. "I've never really considered dating; it kind of seemed pointless for someone like me."

"You're so cold sometimes, princess," he chuckled, leaning his elbows on the table, crossing his arms in front of him. "This is a pretty poor date for a first date though."

"I thought the food was good and the atmosphere quite relaxing," she admitted, looking about. "Why? What's wrong?"

"You've never read a romance novel or watched a romance movie?"

"Plenty," she assured, watching the waiter as he came over to refill her wine. She allowed him to, Murphy doing the same before asking for the check. She eyed him for a moment before turning to her bag that was hanging over the chair. "I'll pay for mine…"

"Not if this is a date," he insisted, his voice firm. "I'll pay for it and I'll also do one better. We're going to do something fun after this."

She turned back toward him now, letting her coin purse fall back into her bag. "Fun?" she asked, a little concerned about what Jon considered to be fun.

"Yeah, you know," he joked, poking his finger at her. "Laughing, smiling… all that."

"And what do you think is fun?" she asked, drinking some of her wine.

"You were pretty sheltered growing up, right?" he asked, his tone sincere. She just shrugged and he grinned, nodding his head. "Right, well I've got an idea. You've never been outside Arkadia, right?"

"I've never left the city," she confessed, feeling a bit sheepish.

"Then we've got time," Jon said, standing up quickly and setting down two gold coins on the table. Clarke mirrored him, strapping her bag around her shoulder as Jon offered for her to follow him after he downed his newly poured wine. He pulled his jacket on over his tunic and offered for Clarke to go in front of him and Clarke took another big drink of her wine before leading Jon through the restaurant and out onto the street.

"Where are we-?"

"You'll see," he smirked, taking her wrist in his fingers and leading her up the street. She tried her best to keep up with him, his strides just a little longer than hers, making her stumble more than once. He noticed she was having problems though and slowed down, turning his head to look at her. "You alright?"

"Just a little hard to keep up," she admitted, blushing brightly. He slowed to a normal walk, pulling his fingers from her wrist slowly.

"Sorry, it's just that we don't have a lot of time," he grinned. "It's almost nine and the curfew starts at ten."

"We don't have to go anywhere else," she insisted, looking up at the back of his head as he walked. "I appreciate the sentiment but-."

"We're not far," he said, stopping so that he could walk beside her. "Besides, I think it will be well worth it."

"Why don't you tell me where we're going?" she questioned, quirking an eyebrow at him.

"Because, I want to see your reaction when you see it," he replied, a sly grin coming over his lips.

"That doesn't sound creepy," she joked, eliciting a laugh from him at her sarcastic tone.

"Here," he pointed, coming around the corner at the end of the street. He pointed at the tall fifteen-foot wall, thick and brightly lit at the top. Further down the wall there was a tower, manned and patrolled by two guards. Clarke just looked at him, the confusion evident in her face. "There's a way to get through," he explained, taking her hand this time and leading her toward an alley way that went between the wall and the large cobblestone building in front of it. She unconsciously squeezed his hand at this and he squeezed back, pulling her closer behind him as they walked on toward the darkened ally.

"It's a little creepy but the reward is well worth it," Jon assured, grabbing something from his pocket with his free hand. Clarke could barely see the small metal object but when he flicked it open it came alight, a small but bright flame emanating from the top. It lit up the narrow alley between the building and the steel wall, revealing a trodden path down a small slope.

"Where does it lead?" she whispered, curious as to what could be at the end of this journey. "Won't we get caught?"

"Just wait," he chuckled, pulling her forward with him as they made their way down the slope. Once they reached the bottom Clarke could see another building, small with a metal gate over the door. She followed Murphy as he walked up to the door and slid his hand into one of the cracks between the stone. There was a soft latching noise followed by the scraping of some sort of rock. Clarke squinted to her right and saw that this latch triggered a rock to move a few inches into the wall, revealing a small opening. "We'll have to squeeze through," Jon explained, taking her hand again. "Come on."

Clarke followed him toward the small hole in the rock and slid sideways after him into the musty cavern below. It was a small step down but it led right under the wall, the tunnel dark and full of rushing wind. He kept the light above them as he moved sideways, never releasing her hand as they shuffled through the tunnel. When Clarke felt the cool rush of air on her face she realized that they'd come out to a small hole in the earth. It was surrounded by rocks and a tree loomed above them revealing the canopy of a forest. The hole wasn't far above them, some rocks and roots making it possible to step up and out.

"I haven't been here since I was a kid," Jon admitted, moving forward slowly. "I'll go first and pull you up."

He handed her the light, smiling as he turned back around and stepped up onto a rock. He lodged his other foot into the root and hoisted himself up and out of the hole. A few seconds passed before he reached his hand down, offering it to Clarke. She took it and he effortlessly pulled her through the hole and onto the forest floor. It was darker here and Jon still didn't let go of her hand, allowing her to hold the light as he lead her on through the tree trunks.

"Almost there," he said, looking over at her. "I really think you're going to like this."

"So far, I'm thrilled," she admitted, looking about her. "But is it safe?" It was the first time she'd ever set foot outside the walls and she loved it. Everything felt so fresh out here, so clean and less stifling. She was also a little worried; she didn't know Jon very well and following him outside the walls of the city probably wasn't the wisest move but something about him soothed her. She wasn't frightened of him but of the enemies lurking about after the attacks on Bellamy.

"I won't let anything happen to you and this will really thrill you," he said, motioning in front of him. Clarke looked around his broad frame and immediately saw what he was pointing at. There, beyond the tree line, was the edge of a ravine. The rocky surface cut off swiftly and plummeted further down toward a small ambling stream. Clarke walked with him toward the edge, handing back the metal light and looking over to inspect the fall. She had never seen something like this up close and wondered what it would feel like to climb down it. "That's not even the best part," Jon whispered, gaining her attention. "We're far enough away from the lights of the wall that you can really see them." He then pointed up to the sky, Clarke's eyes following quickly.

Clarke was almost moved to tears, staring up at the navy blue sky. It was littered with thousands of bright white stars, all twinkling brighter than she's ever seen before. She'd always liked staring at the stars from her balcony or in the garden of her family's villa but here they were so much brighter. It was as if they'd become closer and Clarke could just reach out and touch them.

"There's the big dipper," she said pointing up at the ladle shaped constellation. "And the North Star; they look so much brighter and so beautiful!"

"I knew you'd enjoy this," he chuckled, looking up at the sky with her. "There's Orion, the hunter."

"He's so close," she smiled, reaching her hand out in front of her. "I've never seen something so beautiful."

"Me either," he replied, glancing at her. She blushed slightly, nudging him with her elbow while staring up at the night sky.

"You're smooth," she admitted, swaying as she watched the stars. "I knew I liked you for a reason."

"One of many I hope," Jon laughed, looking back over at her. "I just wanted to make sure your first date was memorable. Less about politics and business and more about fun."

"I don't think I'll ever be able to forget this," Clarke sighed, her eyes still on the stars. "This is the most fun I think I've ever had."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should," she agreed, looking over at him now. "I misread you entirely. I thought you were just trying to gain an edge over everyone else by approaching me first but there is more to it than that." She then turned to face him now, her eyes never leaving his. "I'm just bothered by one thing; I know it's a date but I have to ask. What makes you want to keep your options open? Why risk turning against the Blake family so openly?"

"It's a complicated story," Jon grinned, looking back at the stars. "A story that spans years."

"I've got nothing but time," Clarke smiled, looking up at him. "Besides, it's a pretty big deal to both of us."

"I could tell you," Jon sighed, turning to her. "I would tell you but I don't think it's fair to talk shit about a rival. Besides, you have to make up your own mind on how you feel about Bellamy Blake."

"I think I can understand," she admitted, not looking away from him. "You guys have known each other all of your lives, right?"

"He's always been there, a big brother almost," Jon shrugged. "At least as close as it gets to a brother."

"He's a prideful guy," Clarke commented, remembering his words from earlier. "And he probably doesn't lose that often; I see how that could get frustrating. It's natural for brothers to develop rivalries."

"That is part of it," Jon chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "But it's not just some childhood rivalry or grudge. It extends well beyond that."

"I see," Clarke sighed, pulling her shawl closer around her shoulders. It wasn't cold out but there was a slight breeze out here that Clarke had not prepared for. Jon noticed and immediately pulled his jacket off, handing it to her. She slid her arms into it and was grateful for its warmth. It was still radiating with his own body heat, her hands pulling the collar closer and inhaling gently. She was surprised that it smelled like vanilla and musk, a warm smell that made Clarke's head swim. "Thanks," she said, looking back up at him. He only nodded, watching the sky again. Clarke eyed him for a moment before glancing back up at the sky, sighing softly.

"It bothers you that much, huh?" he asked, not looking away from the sky, his voice full of amusement.

"I don't trust easily," she replied softly. "It's just a little too convenient is all."

"Fine," Jon sighed, glancing down at her. "But you're not going to like it and that's going to work toward my advantage."

"Just tell me why you'd turn against your best friend, your brother really…"

"Bellamy likes to use people, no matter the consequences," Jon admitted, his voice low and solemn. "If it will get him what he wants, he does it. It's not without cause though and that's the real problem. Instead of trusting others to help him he goes behind their back and ends up fucking everything up. He's got a one-track mind when it comes to getting what he wants."

"That's why you thought he was using you?" Clarke questioned, looking back at the sky.

"He spoke to me the day before the benefit," Jon explained, turning to look at her now. "He, Monty, and Jasper were all brainstorming on how to get you to choose Bellamy as your husband. Bellamy said he had a good idea of who you'd go after and wanted me to act in his interest, getting to know you while he kept his distance to better stand out amongst the crowd."

"What an asshole," Clarke gasped, her brow furrowing in disbelief. "He was willing to gamble with your future and the future of your family like that? And you went along with it?"

"I was more than willing," Jon nodded, a grimace on his face. "I honestly didn't think I'd have any sort of chance, not with Bellamy's tunnel vision. So, to help my friend out I agreed to go along with his plan. I thought he was being honest with me by bringing me into the loop but I was proven wrong."

"Why would you think you didn't have a chance?" Clarke asked, her eyes wide. "Your family is quite powerful and close to the Blake family. A match with the Griffin family would be the greatest match in your family's history."

"My great-grandmother was a Blake," Jon corrected, winking at her. "So Bellamy and I are practically family."

"That makes it worse. What did you mean you were proven wrong? What was he lying about?" Clarke asked, pulling the jacket closer around her.

"He knew I was a candidate on your list," Jon admitted. "He had to of. There is no coincidence with Bellamy and when you told me who was on your list, I understood perfectly. He was using me, again, like some sort of pawn in his games. He didn't care what this kind of match could do for me or my family; he was only thinking about himself."

"He was thinking about his own family," Clarke admitted, feeling a mixture of annoyance and frustration. "He told me he'd never put someone else's interests above his family's; I guess he wasn't lying."

"That's why he wants you to pick him, I think," he replied, looking her over. "He'd end the Griffin name and elevate the Blake family to the very top. No one could withstand the power he'd have if he were to give the Griffin heirs the Blake name."

"I knew he was cunning but that's just cruel," Clarke whispered, her eyes stinging with angry tears. She wasn't sure why she was so angry but the fact that she'd been used by Bellamy Blake again didn't help.

"I told you I didn't want to say anything," Jon sighed, stepping toward her. "I'm sorry. I've ruined the date again with talk of politics and schemes."

"Don't be stupid," she grimaced, looking back up at him, blinking away the unshed tears. "It isn't ruined. This is still the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

"You're so weird," Jon laughed, wrapping an arm around her shoulder as he looked back up at the sky. "We can stay a little longer but we definitely want to be back before too late. They've doubled the guard patrols since Bellamy's attack."

"I'm starting to regret saving him," Clarke admitted, a soft chuckle in her throat as she enjoyed the warmth Jon's closeness provided.

"It won't be the first time, I'm sure," he sighed, his eyes still on the sky.

"So what about you? What made you think of this place?"

"You said you'd never been outside the walls," he replied, his voice casual. "This was the easiest way to get out. Not to mention I wanted to see your reaction to the view."

"I can't believe we can just get in and out like that," Clarke whispered, leaning into him slightly.

"It's a well-kept secret between those of us who operate under the radar," he chuckled, his hand on her upper arm tightening gently.

"For a first date, this is really nice," Clarke replied, her voice low and calm. She felt at ease around Jon and for a moment she'd considered forgetting the list entirely and choosing Jon. Her mother would be displeased and her father would probably be a little disappointed but the advantages the match provided would far outweigh their displeasure. Then again, she knew this was a lot for her to take in. Her first date was amazing, more than she could have ever hoped for, and Jon now knew that. If he was really trying to seduce her, this would be a perfect start and she'd be playing right into his hands.

"We can't stay too much longer," Jon said after a few moments of silence, looking back down at her again.

"Lead the way then," Clarke grinned up at him, nodding back toward the trees.

He pulled out the metal light, flicking it open again and motioned for her to follow him, staying close. When they found the hole back into the tunnel Jon dropped down first, offering her the light as he climbed down. Once he was in he reached up, offering her his hands to hold as she lowered herself down. She took one with her open hand, stepping onto a root before lowering herself onto the stone ledge. She was about to step down when she lost balance holding onto his hand, falling forward. He caught her gently, his arms going around her back as he lowered her down onto the tunnel's mud and stone floor.

"You alright?" he asked, looking her over in the dim light that she was still holding. His breath was warm on her face but she immediately noticed the worry in his eyes as he looked her over.

"Lost balance," she breathed, placing her free hand on his bicep, grinning sheepishly.

"You're hopeless, aren't you?" Jon asked, loosening his grip around her and turning toward the tunnel. "Come on, we'll have to avoid the guard if we don't hurry."

Clarke just nodded, allowing him to take her hand as he lead her through the dark tunnel. The orange glow of the light illuminated the back of his head as he faced forward, inching along sideways, ducking in spaces that were too low for him. When they reached the crevice that lead back into the alley he paused, listening to the silence. Once he was convinced there wasn't anyone around, he slipped out, allowing Clarke to step around him as he pushed the switch back into place between the rocks. The stone slid back into the crevice and he turned to her, a smirk on his face.

"Come on princess, let's get you back to the palace," he insisted, taking her hand again and putting the light out. He led her back up the dark ally and into the dead end street, turning back toward the restaurant they'd come from. When they'd made it up the street to the lit houses and street lamps, Jon looked down at her, examining her flushed face. She only grinned at him, pulling the jacket tighter around her as he grinned back, hand clasping hers gently.

"This was really fun," she said, feeling the warmth of his larger fingers over hers as they stood there, the streets quieting down as shops and restaurants were closing up.

"I'm glad you had fun," he admitted, the corners of his mouth pulling into a grin. "I wasn't sure if it would be. I was honestly planning on this meeting being all business but I couldn't let that be your first date."

"You didn't know it was the first time," she laughed, shaking her head. "You're a great improviser."

"I try," he smirked, looking about. "Come on, I'll walk you home."

"I'd appreciate that," she admitted, pulling the collar of the jacket tighter. "I didn't expect it to be this cool out."

"It's the middle of April," Jon laughed, squeezing her hand as he started up the street again. They walked together for a while in silence, the street becoming wider as they approached the market square. The shops became larger, as did the homes, the closer to the market they got and Clarke could hear the families and shopkeepers readying themselves for bed. It was a mostly quiet night, the city guard patrolling in force as the curfew neared. Clarke was enjoying the quiet walk, hand-in-hand with Jon as they entered the market square, the plaza sprawled with closing tents and booths. The vendors were packing their stock into carts and into saddle bags on the backs of donkeys as Clarke and Jon passed. She kept pace with him, letting him lead her down the few steps into the plaza toward the fountains. She watched him closely as they walked now, his eyes always in front of them, glimmering sky blue in the dim light of the street lamps. She bit her lip when he glanced down at her, averting her eyes to the fountain they were nearing to try and cover up her obvious gaze.

"This way, right?" he asked, motioning toward a wide uphill street that lead toward a well-lit intersection.

"Yeah, it's only a few more blocks," she confirmed, nodding up the street.

"Right," he chuckled, letting go of her hand, slowly allowing it to drop to her side as he continued on. "I forgot; I rode in a car to get to your masquerade."

"It's not hard to spot," Clarke responded, following after him, staying a step behind. "It's a little flashy, if you ask me."

"It's great," Jon confirmed, glancing over his shoulder at her. "It's the largest villa in all of Arkadia."

"My grandfather had it built when I was little," Clarke smiled, pushing her hair back over her ear. "It took three years to build and I remember wandering around the unfinished sections, watching workers and playing games."

"I used to do that too," Jon grinned. "I'd sneak out of the villa and into the armory and forge next door. The blacksmith eventually gave up on getting me in trouble and let me watch."

"You learn anything?" Clarke asked, a smirk on her face now as she stared up at him.

"A few things," he nodded, his hands deep in his pockets as they walked up the road, cresting the hill and stopping at the intersection.

"This way," Clarke nodded to her right, walking ahead of him.

"You sure it's a good idea to show up with me, wearing my jacket?" he asked, his eyebrow raised in suspicion as he followed after her.

"Don't worry," Clarke scoffed, a smile spreading over her lips. "It's fine. If anything, my father would be grateful that you're a gentleman. Walking me home, letting me wear your jacket, keeping your distance…"

"If you say so, princess," he grinned, moving to walk beside her again. "But there is some unfinished business we need to talk about before you disappear into your ivory tower."

"It's not that great," Clarke laughed.

"You never really answered me about the lounge," he whispered, leaning toward her as they walked. "Will you come to the meeting?"

"Oh, right," Clarke said, looking over at him now in surprise. She'd completely forgotten about the lounge until now. "I'll come but it has to be when I don't have to work. I can't skip out on my job and I can't raise suspicions; that wouldn't help either of us."

"Agreed," he smiled, turning back toward the road ahead of them as they climbed another small hill. The Griffin villa was now coming into view and she heard Jon chuckle when her nose wrinkled, as if something had seriously offended her. She looked up at him again and he only shook his head, looking at the large and elaborately designed building ahead. "It's not he worse kind of cage, is it?" he asked, his eyes never leaving it.

"It could be worse," she admitted, a soft sigh escaping her lips, followed by an unexpected yawn. She covered her mouth but Jon noticed when he glanced down at her and she just blushed, looking back at the villa.

"It's been a pretty long day for you," Jon commented, slowing down again to walk a little bit behind her this time. "I should have taken your schedule into consideration before I made any plans."

"I'm glad you contacted me," she blurted, a confused look on her face. "I wanted to come."

"I know, and I'm really happy you did," he nodded, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand before continuing, a grimace on his lips. "You've been more than fair with me and I'm really glad we're going to be business partners."

"I'm pretty excited about this opportunity," Clarke admitted, glancing back up at him. "But you have to promise me that you won't keep anything from me. I want to know every dirty detail about these gangs and what is going on."

"You sure you want to know everything?" Jon asked, a little shocked as he looked sideways at her. "It's not always good news, you know. Sometimes things get bloody and violent…"

"I can handle a little blood and violence," Clarke assured, her family's villa looming over them as they came to a stop. The entrance was gated, iron and stone, and the hedges and bars that enclosed the massive structure were pretty intimidating. Clarke never really realized how large her home actually was until just now, with Jon quietly marveling at its size.

"Your home is really beautiful," he commented, glancing back down at her. "I'm sorry if you don't like it but I think it's a marvel. I mean, as far as architecture goes, this place is pretty cool; your family doesn't do half-measures."

"I appreciate the compliment," she nodded, looking back up at the house. "My next day off isn't for another two days so plan our meeting then. I'll do all the prodding and poking I can to find out more about the gangs we are dealing with. It's better to be prepared; I don't like walking in blind."

"I've got some information I can send to you," Jon nodded, looking down at her again, turning to face her fully. "I'll send someone to bring you the files tomorrow at work."

"Thanks," she replied, turning to look up at him now. She was a bit unsure how to end this date, not really willing to part with him just yet. She was having fun and wanted to speak in more detail about their plan for this new lounge. Furthermore, she enjoyed his company; he was funny and unpredictable which made their conversations that much more invigorating. She hadn't realized that she was staring up at him like she was, eyeing his tussled light brown locks or his light blue eyes. She didn't realize that, like her, he was admiring what was in front of him. Clarke didn't really register his gaze on her because a thought had popped into her head that she couldn't dismiss. She wondered, since this was a date, if a goodnight kiss was appropriate. It would be a good way to end a date, even if she didn't want to end it at all.

Jon took a step forward at that moment, Clarke unconsciously mirroring him as she looked up into his completely relaxed gaze. He only smiled, entranced by the innocent curiosity and seemingly golden glow about Clarke as he stepped forward. He placed a hand on her face now, different than the night before when he'd grazed her cheek with the back of his finger. This time, he touched the tips of his fingers to the line of her jaw, just below her ear, running the pad of his thumb gently over her cheek bone. This made her blink up at him, bringing her hand to his wrist, her thumb gently swiping over the top of his hand.

Their eyes met at that moment, a different sensation vibrating through Clarke this time. In that brief moment, both of them had revealed themselves and Clarke immediately saw something she'd never intended to see. Behind his laughter and sarcasm, she saw a glimmer of hope, his eyes betraying the loving nature he so naturally hid away. Behind all the talk, chaos, and tough lone-wolf exterior, there was the need to be loved and in that moment, standing together with their bodies unconsciously gravitating toward one another, he revealed it. She couldn't imagine what he'd seen in her that moment and the thought frightened her enough to make her pause; Jon must have noticed because he placed his other hand on her hip, both of them as close as they could get to one another in that moment. She could see him staring at her lips, his pupils dilating as she unconsciously flicked her tongue over the bottom one. He leaned in then, languidly slow, and her hand went to his neck, feeling the softness of his hair as she caressed it.

She never took her eyes off his, wanting to see more in their baby blue depths but in that moment there came a noise from the stone and iron gate, making both of them jump away from one another. They both turned toward the gate to see a couple of men walking down the stairs towards them, voices loud. Clarke blushed brightly recognizing them as the body guards that escorted her to the market the other day. Clarke looked back up at Jon and was shocked to see the bright blush on his cheeks. He grimaced and she returned it, a laugh escaping them both as they two men approached.

"Who's there?" came one voice.

"It's just me!" Clarke called, grabbing the handle to the gate and opening it, both of the men stopping at the bottom of the stairs. Clarke waved at them and then turned back to Jon, ignoring their questioning glances. "Thanks for the date. It was amazing," she whispered, suddenly standing on her toes and kissing his cheek. She could feel the warmth emanating from his blush as she pulled away, taking off his jacket and handing it to him with a grin. He let out a soft chuckle before she turned from him, pulling the gate open wider and slipping inside. She glanced over her shoulder to see him still standing there, a smirk on his face and his hands in his pockets as she made her way toward the two men waiting for her. She briefly wondered how his lips would have felt on hers before the two men started questioning her, no doubt berating her on her father's orders.

* * *

"I brought you a change of clothes and a new pair of boots," Aurora said, motioning toward the paper bag she'd set on the chair next to Bellamy's bed. "Octavia is waiting very impatiently for you at home. She insisted she stay home from school today and your father got tired of trying to argue with her."

"I just want to get out of this hospital room," Bellamy admitted, sitting up in bed slowly. They'd put his arm in a sling that morning and he wasn't used to moving about with it. "The nurse said she'd be back soon with my breakfast but I probably won't eat it."

"You need to eat," his mother insisted, sitting on the edge of his bed. Just then the nurse walked in with a tray of food, setting it on the table beside him.

"Doctor Griffin should be in soon to confirm your release and then we'll just need to check you out and you can go home," the nurse said, smiling down at Bellamy and Aurora. "Everything looked in order this morning so I don't expect any delays."

"Thank you," Aurora said, looking back at Bellamy.

"No problem, Doctor Griffin will be here soon so I'll see you after she okays your release," the nurse explained, turning from the bed and crossing the room. Once the door swung shut behind her, Aurora grabbed the tray of food, offering him the fruit that was on it. There was also a piece of bread and a boiled egg; Bellamy ate the fruit unwillingly and left the bread and egg on the tray. He was about to lean back onto the bed, his head elevated comfortably on the adjustable frame, when there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," Aurora called and was surprised to see that it wasn't Clarke who came through the door but Jon Murphy. She stood from the bed, smiling at him as he approached, a grimace on his face.

"Sorry to stop in so early," Jon said, walking over to Aurora and greeting her kindly. "But I did promise to come see you before you got released."

"You're always welcome at the villa," Aurora assured, kissing his cheek. "You could have stopped by this afternoon."

"I'll be a little busy this afternoon so I hoped I wouldn't be bothering you by stopping in this morning," Jon explained, looking over at Bellamy, eyeing the sling. "I see they've got you all tied up."

"It'll be fine," Bellamy nodded, looking between Jon and Aurora.

"I'll go get some drinks and more fresh fruit from the cafeteria," Aurora said, stepping around Murphy toward the door. "Don't get out of bed while I'm gone."

"I won't," Bellamy confirmed, leaning back and relaxing. Aurora just smiled, disappearing through the door. When it finally swung shut, Bellamy looked up at Jon curiously, his eyes narrowing as Jon stood there, a defiant look in his own eyes. "So, I hear the benefit went well…"

"We don't have much time so I'll be blunt," Jon said, his hands in his pockets as he stared down at Bellamy. "I talked to Clarke like you instructed and found out about her list. I'll ask you once; did you know about the list?"

"I did," Bellamy said, never looking away from Jon's face as he spoke.

"She wasn't beating around the bush that night," Jon continued, the irritation evident in his voice. "She approached everyone on the list that night, including me. If you'd have just told me there was a list, and that I was a candidate, I might have stepped aside willingly to help you. After all, as much as I hate it, you are Clarke's best chance at this peaceful plan of hers."

"Then why are we arguing?"

"This is arguing?" Jon asked, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"What's your point?" Bellamy asked, not ready for the answer he was certain he'd get.

"The point is that you use people to get what you want, always manipulating their feelings without any care for the repercussions," Jon ground out, his eyes narrowed at his best friend. "I won't be some sort of pawn in your game; neither will Clarke. Unlike me, she's not used to your way of doing things and I won't let you hurt her just to get what you want."

"Open your eyes Murphy," Bellamy laughed, shaking his head. "You won't let me? Do you honestly think you have what she needs? Your family doesn't have the influence to push her agenda through the council and you know that if you go ahead with this match, the Murphy's will no longer have the Blake's protection. What will you do then, when all your business deals with our clients fall through? I don't think you've considered what could happen with this plan of yours…"

"This decision isn't mine to make," Jon replied, his voice tight with anger. "It isn't yours either. Clarke knows all about your schemes, all about your plans to get her to choose you and how you use people to achieve your goals. I think we're on even footing now, Bellamy. Time to end this rivalry once and for all, don't you think?"

"You won't win," Bellamy snapped, looking out the window. "I won't let you win."

"And I won't let you hurt her," Jon retorted, looking at Bellamy incredulously. "She's not a toy for you to play with."

Both of them stared out the window in silence for a few moments, the bright morning sun making the room glow yellow. The knock on the door brought them back from their thoughts as a familiar head of blonde waves came walking into the room. She paused when she spotted Jon, smiling kindly before walking over to the desk, setting down the handheld and turning to Bellamy.

"How are you feeling this morning, Bellamy?" she asked, her voice light and serene. "Any discomfort."

"Yeah," Bellamy smiled, glancing at Jon. "He's over there…"

Clarke glanced over her shoulder at Jon, a smile on his face as he watched her working. "I meant physical discomfort," Clarke replied, turning back to Bellamy with grin. "Nausea? Aches? Anything?"

"Nope," he replied, smiling wide. "You fixed me up good."

Clarke only nodded, grabbing the screen above the bed and turning it toward her. She checked all his charts, scrolling through numbers and statistics before stopping at the heart monitoring files. "It seems like everything is fine," she affirmed, reaching out and touching his forehead with the back of her hand. "You're not feverish and you're not having problems breathing."

"I'm ready to get out of this bed and go home," Bellamy insisted, glancing at Murphy as he leaned against the far wall, watching closely.

"I believe you are ready," Clarke nodded, pushing the screen back into position. She pulled on her stethoscope and motioned for him to lean forward, placing her palm on his good shoulder as she leaned over him. She placed the flat surface on his back and listened closely, her brow furrowing for a moment before leaning back to look him in the eyes. "You don't feel any discomfort? Your breaths aren't shallow and your chest isn't heavy?"

"No," he confirmed, looking at her curiously. "Why?"

"It just sounds like your breathing is a little labored," she admitted, letting go of his shoulder. "I'll make sure to let Octavia know to check it three times a day, instead of one."

"You're cruel," Bellamy groaned, leaning back onto the bed.

"Would you rather stay another night?" Clarke asked, the seriousness in her tone making Jon smirk over her shoulder.

"No," Bellamy sighed, watching her closely. "Unless you're staying with me; then I'll consider it."

"I'm flattered but I don't think that is necessary," Clarke smiled. "You seem to be in the clear so I'll sign the release paperwork. The nurse should be in after a short while to finalize your release; she'll help you schedule your therapy sessions and your follow ups with me." Clarke turned from the bed now, smiling at Murphy. "You're here early; helping him home?"

"Nope, just visiting before I attend to some important business," Jon smiled, Bellamy feeling irritated with the look they were exchanging.

"You're a good friend," Clarke nodded, turning from the bed entirely and walking toward the door.

"I'll walk with you," Jon offered, striding across the room and opening the door for her. "I'm on my way out anyway." Jon then looked over his shoulder as Clarke walked past him, a smirk on his face that Bellamy could clearly see. "Get some rest Bell; looks like you need it."

* * *

"I told you he wasn't going to back down," Jasper insisted, sitting on the end of Bellamy's large bed. They were in his room, Bellamy comfortably seated on his bed as Jasper and Monty sat on the end of it, listening to him explain his encounter with Murphy that morning. "You've pissed him off one too many times."

"We shouldn't have included him on the plan," Monty commented, leaning on his palms. "He wouldn't have even tried to go after Clarke if we didn't put the idea in his head."

"And now he's going to try as hard as he can to make sure I'm not the one she chooses," Bellamy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I wasn't planning on this."

"You each have a fair shot now," Jasper pointed, looking out the balcony and smiling. "That should be interesting."

"Fair?" Bellamy scoffed, looking up at Jasper. "There is no way she's going to choose me now. Not after Murphy told her everything…"

"Murphy is right though," Monty chimed, looking between the two of them. "Bellamy is Clarke's only hope if she wants to bring the council together. She will need to secure Bellamy's friendship, at the very least."

"Then give her an ultimatum," Jasper sighed, looking back at Bellamy. "If you're that worried about it just tell her that she can marry you to gain your support or she can fight you the rest of her life on every issue on the council."

"You could…" Monty sighed, glancing over at Jasper before looking at Bellamy. "But that'd be the most miserable marriage I've ever heard of."

"She'll warm up to you once you're married," Jasper shrugged, looking back at the balcony. "This whole arrangement is all business and no pleasure anyway. She'll probably agree."

"She probably would," Bellamy sighed, looking over at Monty. "And I don't honestly think I could marry a woman that hated me. I don't want my children growing up in such an environment and I don't want Octavia to hate me either. She already likes Clarke anyway."

"What other choice do you have?" Jasper asked, glancing over his shoulder. "Murphy spilled the beans and no matter how much you hate it, it put you at a disadvantage. You'd have an easier time making this entire arrangement into a business proposal."

"Not in the long run," Bellamy replied, looking back at Jasper. "I've got to get her to like me. It is going to be nearly impossible but I've got to try."

"And if she doesn't like you?" Monty asked, an eyebrow quirked in curiosity.

"Then I'll turn it into a business proposal," he snapped, moving to push himself off the bed. He was unable to get his balance with just one hand and nearly fell over sideways onto the bed as he struggled to stand. If it wasn't for Jasper reaching out and grabbing his good arm to anchor him, he'd have landed on his bad shoulder.

"You shouldn't get out of bed," Jasper warned, glancing down at the sling. "If you make it worse, you'll regret it."

Bellamy only smiled, squeezing Jasper's arm with his hand before standing up slowly, making sure not to move the sling or shoulder. "I know," he assured, moving toward the desk and letting go of Jasper's arm. "I just need to sit straight up. I can't stand sitting on that bed anymore." Bellamy moved around the wooden desk, sitting in the plush chair slowly, his eyes drifting over the view outside his balcony. After a few moments of silence, he turned back to Jasper and Monty who'd moved to the chairs near the desk.

"So, what's the game plan now?" Monty finally asked, his eyes on Bellamy's face. He looked tired and less himself than he'd thought possible, finally letting out a long breath and allowing his head to lull back against the chair.

"I'm not sure," he whispered, closing his eyes. "Murphy's family can't offer her the same support on the council as mine can nor can his family's resources. He's got some sway in the underground but not much… "

"Yet," Jasper confessed, glancing over at him. "Murphy doesn't lack ambition, just means."

"She needs me more than she needs Murphy," Bellamy replied, keeping his eyes closed, his head resting on the back of the comfortable chair.

"You're not going to like it," Monty pipped up, making Bellamy look at him. "But I think if your serious about this, you're going to have to be honest with Clarke. Drop the formality, the intimidation, and the scheming and be forward with your intentions. She's not going to appreciate anything less and she won't consider anyone who hides behind a mask."

Bellamy contemplated this a moment, his eyes closing again as he sat here thinking. He didn't have a problem with this strategy but he doubted Clarke would like him without his mask. He wasn't a saint; he knew he had more blood on his hands than he'd like to admit. Bellamy had been working with his father for the past two years managing family business and his internship at the embassy as a ranking officer in the guard. It was the highest rank you could achieve that wasn't part of the military. During that time, he's attended diplomatic meetings, international conferences, and court hearings getting a handle on what it meant to lead on the council. The entire Arkadian government was modeled after their ancestor's form of a republic however, unlike the American form, the Arkadian form held closer to the Roman Senate. The Council acted as the two consuls did at the peak of the republic, able to veto and overrule decisions made by the senate and the five districts. There was also a court system comprised of judges who were firmly in one family's pocket or another.

But he'd ventured, when necessary, to the underground of this open form of government. He'd made deals with lobbyists who represented the various families as well as foreign dignitaries and ambassadors. He'd overseen the various incomes from Blake business, all supervised by his father, to better grasp the amount of work he'd have to take on. He also got his hands dirty, enacting orders that started more than one riot or gang fight. He was not entirely innocent when it came to ruling and he wasn't about to reveal his involvement to Clarke.

"What choice do you have?" Jasper finally chimed in, looking at Bellamy as he lazily opened his eyes again. "Murphy, your best friend, turned on you because you used him. You don't think Clarke will see right through you and know your using her?"

"I don't like it any more than you do," Monty insisted, watching Bellamy closely. "But we have very few options at this point. If she picks anyone else but you, my family is going to be in trouble. The balance right now could topple with one marriage so let it fall in our direction."

"Even if I was forward with her, completely exposed, that doesn't guarantee she'll choose me," Bellamy replied, looking between them. "I'm not disagreeing, I'm simply saying that I doubt she would like unmasked Bellamy more. And if she doesn't marry me, all my secrets, anything she could use against me, she'll have."

"Then it is all or nothing," Jasper nodded, grinning at Monty.

"We need a contingency plan though," Bellamy insisted, holding up his good hand. "I won't play this game with my whole hand revealed. We have to ensure that if things don't go my way, our families are still protected."

"What's the youngest Pike boys name?" Monty asked, his eyes alight with the idea swirling in his head.

"Terrance," Jasper said, watching him. "Why?"

"Kayden isn't going to appreciate Bellamy sticking his neck out," Monty explained, looking to Bellamy across the desk. "He's going to want to know what you're planning and he won't like it without some guarantee of marriage. So, propose that your father speak to Charles Pike about his son marrying Octavia. It will give him the powerful marriage he desires and if it works out that Clarke does chose you, he can easily withdraw the offer without losing face."

"Octavia would never agree," Bellamy laughed, shaking his head. "And neither would my father. He's already made up his mind…" Bellamy looked between Jasper and Monty for a moment and they both looked confused. "My father has decided that if Clarke doesn't choose me, he'll marry me to Azgeda royalty."

"Azgeda?" Monty asked, his eyes wide.

"What? Like King Bellamy?" Jasper asked, laughter in his eyes as he looked between Monty and Bellamy.

"No, more like prince," Bellamy groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Princess Roya of Azgeda is still unmarried and is an experienced war chief and general. My father believes a marriage with them will give us the leverage necessary to overrule the rest of the council. He's determined to destroy the Griffins and I'm starting to question his reasons why."

"How long have you known this?" Monty asked, his eyes still wide, his jaw squared. Bellamy could see the anger behind his disbelieving stare.

"Since Unity Day, almost a week ago," Bellamy admitted, raising his hand. "I talked him out of that kind of match by coming up with this Clarke plan but now he doesn't think it'll work."

"And you thought involving the rest of us in this plot to hand Azgeda the key to Arkadia was a good idea?" Monty asked, his voice becoming harsh.

"That's not my intention," Bellamy reasoned, seeing the worry in Jasper's eyes. Neither of them had seen Monty this mad before; they could almost feel the rage radiating from him.

"No, your intention was to get us to look like the fools who sanctioned an Azgeda and Blake alliance," Monty growled, standing up now. "You intended to steamroll right over us and do as you pleased anyway, even if it meant the ruin of mine or Jasper's families."

"Monty, I never meant any of that," Bellamy said, his voice becoming a bit sterner. "I want an Arkadian alliance and that is why I brought you in on it. I needed your help to prevent my father from making the biggest mistake in our family's history."

"But you knew that if your match with Clarke didn't succeed, you'd have to rely on Azgeda," Monty retorted, his voice still low and full of anger. "You were hoping that the possibility of an Azgeda match would force Jake Griffin to offer up his own daughter to your ambition. But no, that isn't working, is it? She's the only one who can make this decision and she's the one person in Arkadia you can't manipulate."

"I never intended to hurt you or either of your families," Bellamy interjected, making Monty pause. "I didn't know my father would abandon the plan so early and I didn't know that Clarke alone would be making these decisions. It was a miscalculation and I- "

"And now we're all being pulled under by your ambition," Monty interjected, stepping closer to Bellamy. "You've made us traitors to our people, our families, and our ancestors with your lies and schemes. Now what are we supposed to do? Tell me, what is your brilliant plan now? Our only chance is for you to convince Clarke that she needs to choose you as soon as possible! You're an idiot! A moron! A self-serving arrogant-!"

"I don't know!" Bellamy yelled back, the depth of his voice and the commanding way in which he snapped making Monty stop, crossing his arms over his chest angrily. He had immediately gone into panic mode, his eyes becoming distant as his mind took over, trying desperately to find a way out of this. The angry man from a moment ago, had disappeared and been replaced with silent, fuming, and thoughtful Monty. Bellamy was thankful for this and immediately turned to Jasper, watching the different shades of fear and amusement overcome his face.

"My father has invited Azgeda to dine at our home the night after next," Bellamy explained, looking between his two friends. "You both know that we were attacked twice on the road back south, but what you don't know is the truth." Both Monty and Jasper gawked at him, making Bellamy sigh in frustration and anger. "The meeting tomorrow between us is meant to look like a private settlement between two conflicting parties. The council believes it to be the preliminary proceedings for a court hearing and, if it comes to that, an appeal to The Commander."

"But it's really to work out details with Azgeda for the marriage," Monty surmised, his eyes wide. "He's really going to do it?"

"There's more," Bellamy motioned, making Monty sit back down. "There were three attacks, not two. Since you think I'm being dishonest and selfish, I'll tell you this secret. If I can't trust you two with it, I don't know who I could trust."

"What do you mean three attacks?" Jasper asked, his voice calm but curious.

"Father and I went north to deal with an attack on one of our gun shipments," Bellamy began, his voice solemn and steady. "21 rifles were stolen from our shipment to the northern base. They weren't transferred with the ammo so whoever took them doesn't have the ammunition to use them but the report from the ambush is troubling."

"This entire situation is troubling," Monty ground out, looking between the two of them. "What happened?"

"A storm hit while they were escorting the guns," Bellamy continued, making sure not to leave out any details He told them aboutc the surviving guards being drugged and how the attackers may have been wearing bullet proof vests. He also told them about the trip back and all the details leading up to Bellamy blacking out the final time before the hospital. By the time he was done explaining, Monty and Jasper were no longer mad but completely horrified at the prospect of an enemy within Arkadian walls. It was Jasper who broke the fearful silence.

"So, who do you think it is?"

"You know who it is," Monty ground out, glancing over at Bellamy. "Who else? It has to be Jake Griffin in response to all your plans that seem to be imploding spectacularly."

"I'd considered it as a possibility," Bellamy admitted, glancing at Monty. "But Jake has never been overly aggressive and he's too honorable to try to assassinate both my father and I like that."

"Then you're a fool," Monty said. "They have one heir left and it's a woman. Do you really think they won't stoop to that level with their entire lineage on the line? The future of their family?"

"It is possible," Bellamy affirmed, raising his palm to deflect Monty's incredulous stare. "But I think there is more at work here. I just don't know what…"

"All I know is that you have one day to convince Clarke to choose you," Jasper laughed, making them both look at him bemusedly. "What's the plan?"

"What do you mean, plan?" Monty asked, his eyes wide. "There is no way- "

"What did you have in mind?" Bellamy asked, moving to stand again, shifting in the comfortable chair he'd been perched in. Monty and Jasper quickly moved to help him now, standing on either side of him. "I'm fine," Bellamy insisted, standing straight. "But we need a plan and a fast one; I have to show my father some progress or he'll push ahead with this Azgeda alliance. Even if this meeting is just to approach the suit, it still implies interest."

"You have to talk to Clarke, lay it all out on the line for her," Monty suggested, nodding his head. "That's the only way to get her to see what is at stake."

"I don't want a marriage like that," Bellamy reasoned, shaking his head. "And I don't think that is what she wants either. I can't just force her to marry me out of fear and convenience."

"It almost sounds like you care for her," Jasper commented, making Bellamy look at him.

"I could care for her," Bellamy countered, his eyes narrowed. "But I don't have time to find out."

"We need to find out if she could care for you," he retorted, a smile on his face. "If she hasn't already decided to love Murphy…"

"You can't just decide something like that," came a familiar voice and all three men looked toward the door to see Murphy standing in the doorway. "And she may appreciate my friendship but it's your help she needs and it would seem you need hers as well."

"How long were you-?"

"I was outside the door a few minutes," Murphy smirked, shutting the door behind him. "But I heard part of your dilemma and it seems you also need my help with this as well."

"What did you hear?" Bellamy asked, stepping forward. Murphy just smiled at him, moving to stand right in front of him, a determined look of amusement in his eyes.

"Enough to know that if you want to find out who was really behind the assassination attempts, you have to convince Clarke to fall in love with you."

"Love," Monty shook his head, looking over at Bellamy. "You just have to convince her that you're the best match. You can guarantee her that in exchange for the match, all your female children and their heirs will be name Griffin. How about it? She can't refuse a generous offer like that."

"That's all nice and neat on paper, Monty," Murphy interjected, shaking his head. "But what if he has no daughters? What if despite all your promises, the only thing she's looking for is love?"

"Love again?" Bellamy questioned, looking directly at Murphy. "What are you getting at?"

"Clarke isn't looking for just a solid alliance and a safe future for her family," Murphy reasoned, shaking his head. "You don't see it, do you? I realized it the other night when we were speaking at the benefit and again last night during our date…"

"You had a date?" Jasper asked, his eyes wide. "No wonder Kat wouldn't tell me where you were at; what did you and the princess do?"

"That's not important," Bellamy ground out, glaring at Murphy. "What's important is that I see things from Clarke's perspective. Are you going to help me this time, or not?"

"I'll help you but I'm only doing it to protect Clarke," Murphy nodded. "I don't want to be a pawn on the chessboard you two are setting up and I don't want the responsibility of marriage yet."

"So, love," Bellamy nodded, motioning for them to sit down. "How should we approach this?"

"Not we," Monty pointed, looking between Jon and Bellamy. "You are the only one who can get her to love you."

"I'm more concerned about these attacks," Murphy pointed, sitting down in one of the chairs near the desk. Bellamy moved back to his chair and soon all four of them were sitting around the desk drinking, and debating, who their Arkadian enemies could be.

* * *

 **Plots and intrigues... plots and intrigues... fun to write. Hope you enjoyed it! Please review.**


	12. Chapter 12: Investments

**I hate you and I love you. Why do I do this, perhaps you ask. I do not know, but I feel it happening and I am tortured. - Catullus**

* * *

Clarke was sitting in her mother's office at work the next day munching on her lunch when there was a knock at the door. Abby wasn't working that day, having to attend a board meeting and a nurse's union hearing. Clarke stood from the desk anyway, crossing to the door and opening it to reveal a young man in plain gray tunic. He had a letter in his hand and a soft smile on his face as he looked at Clarke.

"I'm looking for Clarke Griffin," he said, holding out the letter. "This is Doctor Abby Griffin's office, correct?"

"It is, and I'm her daughter," Clarke said, holding out her hand to take the letter. The boy smiled gently before handing it to her, turning around and heading back down the hall. Clarke noticed, as he left, that he had a small symbol on his collar; yellow and light blue. She shut the door quickly before opening the letter, curious about what it could contain.

 _Clarke,_

 _I was hoping to meet you this afternoon to discuss something that has been on my mind, however, I have some pressing issues to attend to. Therefore, I'm hoping this letter finds you well and that you'll not be offended by the manner of it. I do not mean to sound presumptuous but I would like to ask you on a date. I will return to Arkadia in three days and would like to have dinner. I look forward to your response when I return._

 _Landell Pike_

Clarke read over the letter once more before placing it in her pocket. She had almost forgotten about Landell and how she'd promised that they'd talk again soon. He was overall pleasant and was definitely her top choice as far as her allies go. He was kind and came across as a genuine person who honestly enjoyed his profession and his life in general. He wasn't just muddling through like Clarke was and he wasn't some starry eyed teenage boy. He was a man and took on his duties without complaint or reservation, something Clarke could genuinely appreciate.

Clarke sat back down at the desk, finishing her lunch and mulling over Landell's words at the benefit a few nights ago. She'd remembered he'd been a shy man, simple, but his interests were vast. His favorite music was 2040's rock and classic rock from the twentieth century. He enjoyed simple meals like sandwiches and meats as well as country life at his father's western estate. It was perfect for riding horses and viewing the countryside. He'd told her all this while they were dancing and she felt guilty that until now, she'd not thought about him. It pricked her in a way that quickly led to frustration in herself and her judgement. She knew he was the most viable candidate, the most logical. He was an ally of hers, he'd agreed outright to play fair and she had absolutely no reason to doubt him. On top of that, he was just a pleasant person all around, someone Clarke would have honestly been happy with as the father of her children. Why then, did she feel this unsettling flip in her stomach? Why the hesitation? Why did she forget him in the first place?

Bellamy's smug smile from the other night flooded her mind, the way his eyes almost glittered with black and gold when he spoke to her. She was absolutely enamored by this memory but frustrated with her weakness. He wasn't who she wanted and yet, her heart raced at the thought of meeting him again. It wasn't a chance encounter but the fact that he's mostly disregarded her medical opinions was insulting. It wasn't as if he was trying to hurt himself and she understood that but his complete disregard for her professional opinion was insulting. He'd also insulted her further, treating her like her love was some sort of prize and he was going to claim it. This made her heart race even more but she immediately pushed it aside. Nothing was more important than a good match and she knew that even with all his promises, he couldn't really give her what she wanted.

There was another knock at the door and Clarke jumped, so deep in thought that she'd forgotten she was even at work. She got up from the desk and opened the door composing herself with a smile. On the other side of the door was none other than Jon Murphy. She immediately felt her heart race again, this time genuinely appreciating his appearance at that moment.

"Jon," she smiled, stepping aside and inviting him in.

"Hey," he said, slipping past her and looking about the office. "How's lunch?"

"Pretty good," she admitted, shutting the door and moving back to the desk to sit. Jon sat across from her in one of the chairs and she grinned, noticing how sheepish he looked.

"Well, this is pretty intimidating," he chuckled, motioning to her. "Sitting behind that desk makes you look incredibly powerful. I feel like I'm going to be reprimanded for something at any moment."

"Have you done something that you need to be reprimanded for?" Clarke asked, a coy grin on her face as she leaned forward.

"Not today," he replied, a sly grin spreading across his face, his light blue eyes alight as he looked at her. "I just wanted to make sure you were ready for tonight."

"I haven't forgotten," Clarke lied, sitting back in the chair. The truth was, she had forgotten about today.

"You sure?" he asked, looking her over. "You wouldn't lie to me, would you, doc?"

"I was fully intending on researching everything last night," Clarke admitted, her blush rising. "But I was so distracted that I utterly forgot until now."

"No need to panic," Jon smiled, shaking his head. "I can tell you anything you want to know."

"When are we meeting?"

"Tonight, at my lounge, ten o'clock," Jon smiled. "Do you want me to meet you? I'd prefer if you didn't walk there alone. It isn't a friendly neighborhood."

"That's fine," she nodded. "I can meet you at nine so we can be there early. I'll have to sneak out through the back-garden gate in the alley."

"I'll meet you there," he assured, a gallant smile on his face. "I can't let the princess venture out alone after dark."

"Princess," she scoffed, feeling particularly annoyed at the nickname today. She wasn't sure if it was because of Bellamy or not. "What else can you tell me about the two gangs? One is a small gang, right? Jaha controlled?"

"Correct, the other is a bigger fish. They push pills out of the lounge and the Jaha controlled gang pushes bets and loans. The Blake controlled gang has already agreed to keep their previous deal, a courtesy toward me. They're quite dangerous as is, being gun smugglers."

"So tonight, who will be attending?" Clarke asked, feeling a bit worried.

"Just the leader of your faction and two of his associates," Jon nodded, his voice low but even. "The leader's name is Percival and he's bringing with him the leader of the Jaha gang, Ban. It is your prescience, and your approval, they need tonight. If I show them that you are on my side, that the future of their faction is getting her hands a little dirty, it will generate not only massive respect for you but me as well. This will cement the first real alliance between our families."

Clarke couldn't help but smile at him, the hopeful ringing of his words echoing through her as he spoke. It was amazing to see his enthusiasm and his excitement to help her. She didn't forget that he was also helping himself and to see him rise, to gain power, made her heart jump. He was truly trying to move toward a more peaceful future and that, she wholeheartedly believed, was because of his love for others. For Jon, someone who'd always distanced himself from others and never once aspired to be more than a survivor, this was big. Clarke felt lucky enough just to enjoy this moment with him.

"This is more than I thought it could be," she nodded, the excitement in her voice mirroring his. "This is the first true step anyone has taken, in over thirty years, toward peace."

"Now, you understand that tonight is all about you, right?" he replied, his voice in a whisper. "It isn't me these two mobsters are meeting with. No, they came together to discuss a new deal with you, the future of the Griffin family. They are expecting a weak teenage girl with no experience or street smarts; their disappointment and humiliation will be the true highlight of this night. Don't forget to appreciate it."

"You have far too much faith in me," Clarke laughed, shaking her head. "I don't know anything about the kinds of deals you're making."

"You don't need to," he nodded, leaning back in the chair. "I'll lay out the deal for them, you'll approve of it, and they'll be forced to agree. This isn't official kind of stuff, you know? I mean, it's not like we're drawing up contracts and treaties here."

"Sounds like I'm just a figure-head," she admitted, sounding a bit disappointed. "I mean, why do I need to come at all?"

"Listen," he chuckled, leaning across the desk. "These terms are based on your agenda, your peaceful goal. I'm agreeing to cut them a lower rate for agreeing to work alongside me and my gang."

"My father won't approve…"

"He won't know right away," Jon nodded. "Like I said before, these gangs and businesses run under the radar and almost never have contact with their actual patrons. I'll also keep business as usual, allowing them a cut of the much larger venue I'm designing."

"Designing?" Clarke asked, a little confused. "What do you mean?"

"I'm expanding the lounge, making it bigger and putting in actual space for the separate clubs. The space right now is too small but I've managed to purchase the three buildings surrounding it on that block and want to turn it into a legitimate casino and gentlemen's club."

"A legitimate front?" Clarke asked, realizing what he meant.

"Exactly," he agreed. "Word will spread fast after we establish a working relationship so I need the display to go with it. A brand-new casino and lounge opening in the most impoverished part of town will not only stimulate the neighborhood economy but it will become more controlled, less chaotic with gang violence. So long as they are pushing their products under the table, what do they have to lose?"

"That's a brilliant idea, Jon," Clarke smiled, nodding in approval. "We could charge them a fortune if they wanted to step out of line. It's the perfect plan."

"I wasn't sure you'd appreciate the gambling and strippers," he admitted, a smile spreading over his face again. "But I'm relieved you like the plan. If we tell them this plan tonight, they'll be begging to work with us."

"I'm a little concerned though," Clarke said, looking him over. "How much money do you plan on sinking into this project?"

"Don't worry about it," Jon said, waving his hand. "I've got the cash and I've got the motivation to run it."

"It's an awfully one-sided risk," Clarke admitted. "Sure, I might get a little scorn from my side of the aisle and I'm sure my father won't be very happy once he finds out but by then it will be too late. At least let me pay for something."

"You want to invest?" Jon asked, an eyebrow raised curiously.

"Yes," Clarke nodded, smiling over at him. "I think that would be fairer."

"It's not wise to invest before you've actually viewed the investment," Jon chuckled, nodding his head. "But if you insist, bring whatever amount of money you'd like to invest and I'll happily put it towards the lounge and casino."

"I'll stop by the bank," Clarke nodded. "I've got my own private birthday account that my father won't notice."

"Birthday account?" Jon asked, an amused twinkle in his eyes.

"Yeah, every year since I was born, my father puts money in my birthday account," she grinned. "Each year he puts more and more but this year, he doubled the account. I think investing it would be a wise decision on my part."

"Who am I to talk you out of it?" Jon laughed, shrugging his shoulders. "If that's the case then I think we truly are partners. I may have to build you your own office…"

"My own office?" Clarke asked, amused. "At the casino?"

"You wouldn't like that?" Jon asked, a coy smile on his face. She could tell he was being serious and she actually enjoyed the idea of working side by side with Jon at the casino. If anything, it would better cement her intentions for peace.

"I think it would be appropriate," she nodded. "A small office; nothing too opulent."

"You're going to run a casino in one of the worse neighborhoods in town in hopes of stimulating the local economy and intimidating gangs. You really think a small office is appropriate?"

"Then we'll share an office," Clarke nodded. "I'll inspect the space tonight and we'll make arrangements to have it redesigned. If I'm going to be partnering with you, I think I should at least approve of the décor."

"You drive a hard bargain," Jon chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "So, got any suggestions for the name of our new casino and gentleman's club?"

"Anything but Starlight Lounge," Clarke chuckled, thinking of their date the other night. "Miffin or Gurphy doesn't sound good either so we'll have to come up with something intriguing."

"You know, there used to be an entire city dedicated to gambling before the bombs went off," Murphy noted, deep in thought. "It had a name…"

"Really?" Clarke asked, surprised she'd never heard of this before.

"Yeah, I'll have to look it up," Jon nodded. "But I'm sure we'll come up with something. I am glad you weren't busy when I showed up. I half expected to wait until your shift was over to talk to you."

"I'm glad you did show up," Clarke nodded. "In fact, I think I'm going to take the rest of the afternoon off to prepare myself. I don't have any pressing patients and today has been, for the most part, a quiet day"

"Ditching out on work," Jon laughed, moving to stand. "A girl after my own heart." He then waved, turning toward the door. "I'll pick you up tonight at nine. See ya, princess."

Clarke smiled as he left, the door snapping shut behind him. She couldn't believe she'd forgotten all about their meeting that night. She had so much on her plate and usually she was a great multitasker. This whole business of choosing a suitor had thrown Clarke off her normally composed and prepared path. After tidying up her mother's desk, she left the office and made her way toward the locker room, making sure to inform the nurse that she was leaving early.

It wasn't a big deal and the nurse didn't mind, updating her on the wing she was monitoring before disappearing to change into her normal clothing. As she was dressing she remembered the note Landell had sent, still sitting in one of her front pockets. She pulled it out and set it in her locker, grabbing it after she was finally dressed again. It wasn't long until Clarke was entering through the gates of her family's villa, her mother still at meetings that afternoon and her father, undoubtedly, was attending to his own affairs at the embassy. She was relieved to find that only a few servants were home, tidying up as she walked through the large atrium. She didn't speak to any of them as she made her way up to her bedroom to her computer. Once sitting in front of her computer she pulled the note from Landell out, setting it just below the screen so she wouldn't forget it. She then began pulling up files from the public archives. Each file had partial details on gang activity as well as some vague criminal background information. Clarke sorted through articles containing both Percival and Ban by name, as well as any related activity over the past few years. It seemed that Percival and Ban had only ever been picked up once by the city guard and imprisoned. Percival, after a particularly violent street fight six years ago, was put away for three months for inciting a riot. It was really a slap on the wrist with the amount of fatalities that day in the double digits.

Clarke noted that Ban had more recently gotten picked up, a year ago, over a brawl started at a bar. He and his gang murdered almost a dozen people from a rival gang and all he got was six months of jail time, his lackeys bearing the brunt of the punishment; some of them being convicted for more than ten years. Clarke scrolled through a few more pages, reading the profiles and articles over again before turning from her computer. Jon was involved with some pretty dangerous men and Clarke, for the first time, felt a little uneasy about her plan. These men were loose cannons, easily distracted by emotions and desires; men you couldn't trust. Clarke could guarantee that is why her father chose him to lead the gang; men like that can be untrustworthy but you could always predict what they are going to do next. She wasn't concerned about herself though; she felt concerned about Jon and what he was getting himself into. Clarke knew that when the Blake's find out about their partnership, it'll negatively affect Jon's family. Such a public partnership, even if it is a front, is dangerous; it could work the common people up into a frenzy. The rivalry between factions, between the classes really, couldn't be avoided forever.

Clarke stood from the desk now, crossing the room to her mirror, and scrolling through different outfits. The one she had on now was far too plain. It was a simple blue skirt, flaring at the knees with a button up white shirt. It wasn't inappropriate but it didn't seem to exude business savvy. If anything, it played right into the typical teenage girl stereotype. She sighed, going through every darker colored outfit for about an hour when she finally gave up, realizing all she really owned were scrubs, slacks, and flowing dresses. She shook her head at this locating some simple pants and shirts along the way but they weren't nearly good enough for such an important meeting. She couldn't help but wonder if the real problem was her. She didn't know how to be intimidating; she'd never tried it before. Sure, she may come off sometimes as intimidating but that wasn't on purpose. Most of the time she was just doing what needed to be done, at work or not.

Then she remembered what the shop owner said to her last week, when she and her mother had stopped in for scrubs on market day. She was undressed quickly, pulling on a simple pair of black leggings and a long tunic. She quickly switched out her shoes, going for comfortable black leather boots before leaving her room. She wanted to be gone before her parents got home so they wouldn't ask too many questions. After all, they expected her to remain at work the rest of the day. She left the villa pulling on her gray hoodie and stuffing the small coin purse in her pocket. She'd immediately head for the bank and withdraw some coin for the lounge before heading to the tailor's store. After making her way to the market square she entered the bank to find that she wasn't the only one there that afternoon. Another familiar face was standing at the small gated window, talking to the banker.

"Clarke?" came a familiar voice and she smiled at the man in front of her.

"Long time no see," she laughed, offering him a hug. Wells smiled warmly and embraced her turning back to the teller.

"Just the deposit today, thanks," he said, turning back to Clarke. "What brings you here? Aren't you working today?"

"I was," she nodded, glancing about the well-lit bank foyer. "I'm here to withdraw some money for an investment." Clarke chuckled at his curious expression and turned to the lady at the window, pulling out her family crest, minted into a coin for easy use. "Hello, I'd like to withdraw five thousand gold from my account. It'll be under Clarke Griffin, number 603." The teller took the minted coin with the crest on it and nodded, turning from the window and disappearing into the back offices.

"Investment in what?" Wells asked, crossing his arms over his chest casually.

"I can't tell you right now," Clarke grinned, earning a worried look from her best friend. "But I will, soon."

"Is it something dangerous?" Wells asked, his eyes narrowed.

"Sort of," she shrugged, patting him on the shoulder playfully.

"Do you really think you should be making those kinds of moves?" Wells asked, biting his bottom lip. "I know you have a good heart but you shouldn't stick your neck out there yet."

"You don't trust my judgement?" Clarke asked, a little confused. "It's nothing that major. Just a small monetary donation to a project I've partnered up on."

"With who?" Wells insisted, a little more uneasy.

"I can't tell you that, either," Clarke insisted, shaking her head as the teller came out of the back room, handing the minted coin back to Clarke. She then handed her a large satchel, bulking with coins. Clarke took it from her and was astounded by the weight. She had no idea that the coins would weigh this much and she wasn't sure where she was going to keep them hidden. There was no way the sack would fit in her hoodie or pockets. Wells only eyed her suspiciously before offering to carry it for her. She grinned sheepishly, handing him the satchel and together they left the bank, Wells not speaking a word until Clarke stopped in front of the familiar clothing shop.

"Well, here we are," she nodded, motioning at the shop. "They make the best scrubs in town."

"This is your investment?" Wells laughed, his eyes wide with amusement.

"Any investment is dangerous," Clarke chuckled, glad he wasn't pressing the matter any further. "Besides, I figure it is more responsible to invest my money than to spend it all. Right?"

"You really had me worried there," Wells nodded, handing her back the satchel of gold. "I'm sure the shop owner appreciates the investment."

"I'm going to also commission him to make me something more professional," Clarke grinned.

"You women are all a mystery," Wells nodded, patting her on the shoulder. "First you talk about business investments and now you're talking about clothes. I'll never understand…"

"It's better left a mystery," Clarke nodded, embracing him in a hug. "Come visit more often. I've missed you."

"Whenever I have another day off," Wells assured, handing her the heavy satchel. He then smiled, waving to her as he walked on. "But I have to get back to the embassy; my father isn't as patient as yours."

"Hey," she called, walking back toward him, a little bit of fear rising in her chest. "Don't tell my dad, okay? I want to make this work on my own, without his help."

"No need to explain," Wells grinned, giving her a thumbs-up. "I won't say a word. This is your news to tell, not mine."

"Thanks!" Clarke smiled, waving after him as he took off down the street toward the embassy square. For the first time in her life, she'd lied to Wells and the feeling was turning dully in her stomach. After he disappeared into the crowd Clarke turned from the street, walking into the little shop to the tinkling of a small bell.

"Evening," the shop owner said, spotting Clarke across the room. "Good to see you again Miss Griffin. How are you?"

"I'm good, Mike," Clarke admitted, walking up to the counter. The store was empty and Clarke was grateful that it was. "I was hoping I could ask a favor of you actually…"

"Anything," Mike smiled, motioning for her to come around the counter. She did so and once behind it she realized that the room in back held dozens of rolls of fabric and thread. She also noticed a workshop, further in the back of the store. The shop owner motioned for her to follow him, telling his wife, who was in the side room mending something, to watch the counter. When they were in the workshop in back, he turned to Clarke his eyes alight with curiosity. "What can I do for you?"

"I need an outfit made fast," Clarke admitted, feeling a bit sheepish. She wasn't even sure if he had the time.

"What kind of outfit are you looking for?" he asked, assessing her closely. "I have several scrubs just made and ready to be shelved. I also have several new aprons and robes. I have both you and your mother's measurements so making something wouldn't be too hard."

"No, no scrubs or anything like that. I need something that makes me look more…" Clarke wasn't sure how to phrase it. "You see, I've got this important meeting with some pretty intimidating people and I just don't have anything to wear. I want something that gives the impression that I mean business."

"I see," Mike said, stroking his beard.

"I have plenty of dresses, skirts, and tunics but I don't have anything that fits this particular situation," Clarke admitted, feeling a little exasperated. She wasn't sure what she was looking for.

"I think I understand," the shopkeeper smiled, turning to the computer screen over his desk. After a moment, he stepped aside, revealing a design for an outfit Clarke had never seen before. It was an old design but it had class and a bold impression that was sure to impress. Clarke nodded her approval, grinning at the shop keeper.

"I know it's late in the afternoon but I was hoping to have it tonight. I'd completely forgot about it until now," she admitted, hoping he could help her.

"It isn't a complicated outfit," he admitted, looking over the design. "It's quite plain and the fabric wouldn't have to be anything complicated. What time did you need it?"

"By nine," Clarke replied, a soft smile on her lips.

"It will be done," he agreed, moving to sit at his work desk. "I'll have the machine cut out the print and sew the basics to both pieces. I'll add the ribbon and lace afterward. It should be done well before nine."

"I appreciate this," Clarke said, reaching into the large bag of coins. She handed him five gold pieces and smiled, noting how shocked he was. "For your haste and discretion but I'd also ask another favor, for future dates."

"Anything," Mike said, taking the gold gratefully.

"Could you make three or four of these outfits, maybe use some of your own ideas to change them up a bit," Clarke nodded, looking down at the designs. "Different colored tops and skirts and such?"

"Not a problem at all," he assured, pocketing the coins. "They'll be the best pieces I've ever made."

"I'm counting on you," she assured, turning from him now. "I'll be back around nine. Is that enough time?"

"Four hours is plenty of time," he assured, waving her out.

"I have one more favor, if you don't mind me asking," she said, feeling a bit guilty. "Can I leave my coins here until I return?" What choice did she honestly have? She couldn't imagine carrying the satchel of coins all the way back to the villa and then all the way back here.

"Absolutely," Mike smiled, standing from the stool and crossing the room. He opened a small closet door and on one of the shelves stood a small black safe. He grabbed a key from his pocket and opened it, motioning for her to place the coins inside. When she did he closed it tightly, handing her the key to the safe. "Here, so you don't have to worry."

"It never crossed my mind," Clarke nodded, taking the key anyway. "I'll be back at nine. Thanks so much, Mike. You're a life saver!"

* * *

"What do you think?" Mike asked, admiring his outfit in the simple mirror as Clarke stood there. It was perfect, exactly what she was looking for. She'd kept her hair loose and flowing but tied the sides behind her head, allowing it to rest comfortably behind her ears. She was also wearing simple black boots, the heal giving her an extra couple of inches of height. What was stunning was the outfit Mike had created. It was a simple pencil skirt, black, that extended from just below her bust all the way down to her knees. It hugged her hips nicely and accented the dark boots she was wearing. The top was even more elegant, fringed and white with lace and a simple black bow hanging around the neck. It had no sleeves and had an elegantly pressed collar, the vertical lace lines complimenting the dark color of the bow. It didn't show off too much skin and looked quite mature. She admired herself in the mirror for quite some time before Mike repeated his question.

"It's perfect," she nodded, looking back at him. "It looks so official, so business savvy and it makes me look way older than I actually am." She couldn't help but admire her reflection, turning to inspect the back of it as well.

"I'm glad you like it," he nodded, moving toward the closet. He opened it, revealing the safe again, and she handed him the key, still enamored by her own reflection. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so mature, so elegant, and this outfit was more than perfect. It was sexy, a little playful, but overall it accented the seriousness she had to portray. After all, these two men weren't inexperienced like she was and even though Jon was familiar with them, she still didn't want to allow them to push her around. This was going to be her true test at leadership, as someone to be both respected and feared. She needed all the help she could get and this outfit was surely a winner.

Just then her handheld went off and she grabbed it from her purse, motioning for the shop keeper to set the coins down on the table. There was a new message in her mail and she quickly opened it, seeing Jon's name and face pop up. It was a short message but encouraging nonetheless.

 _Be to the shop soon. Glad I saw your message before I left. I'm a little excited for this meeting. Can't wait to see you._

She'd informed Jon, when she went home, that she'd found a new outfit at the shop and that they should meet a little earlier than planned at the shop to prevent suspicion. He didn't respond right away but Clarke stuck to the plan, sneaking out the back gate alone and down toward the market square as soon as it got dark. She kept her hood over her head as she walked, to avoid curious eyes, and reached the shop just as the clock in the square chimed 9.

Clarke threw her cloak back on over her outfit now, buttoning it tightly and pulling the hood up. She grabbed the satchel of coins, handing one more to Mike before making her way into the front of the store. She watched impatiently as straggling shoppers and vendors walked by, hoping that one of them was Jon. When she spotted him, wearing a simple collared jacket with metal buttons and a simple pair of dark jeans, she slipped out of the shop, waving to the owners behind the counter. Jon spotted her immediately and walked up to her, standing in front of her so passersby couldn't spot the satchel she was carrying.

"That's not obvious," Jon whispered, taking the satchel from her and hiding it under his coat.

"Sorry, I just wanted to make sure I got enough," she smiled pulling the hood tighter around her.

"That's plenty," Jon laughed, shaking his head. "It's heavy though…c'mon, let's just get to the lounge before we're spotted."

"Lead the way," Clarke said, motioning for him to walk in front of her. He nodded, making sure not to walk too fast as they made their way down the market square. Instead of heading up the street, toward the crest of the hill, he led her down a darker side street toward the center of town. It was only after walking for about ten minutes did Clarke really notice the difference. The market, hospital, and embassy square were all clean, beautiful houses and shops dotted along the way. Here, there were iron bars over windows, broken glass on the streets, and the smell was almost unbelievable. Everything looked run down, almost dead compared to the brightness of the market square. There were no fountains, potted plants, cheerful vendors, or happy faces. Instead, the roads were dark and narrow, lights from the lopsided and decaying buildings about them casting shadows along the ground around them. Clarke couldn't help but speed up, walking closer to Jon the further they went. He must have noticed the nervousness because he reached out his hand, offering for her to take his arm. She smiled sheepishly, taking it and walking close, her arm warm in the crook of his.

"It's not pretty here," Jon said, his eyes ever alert to their surroundings. "There are addicts, prostitutes, gangs, and homeless all around this area. Most of them are squatters in these older buildings that were part of the original ark, see?"

He pointed at some of the buildings, most of them held together with steel and flimsy wooden rafters. The state of this part of town made Clarke's stomach turn. She couldn't believe that children grew up in places like this. "Jon," she whispered finally, feeling overwhelmed by the state of the city around her. "I had no idea…"

"Most people don't," he replied, his arm squeezing hers. "I've seen it all, first hand, for the past five years."

"You've been coming down here for five years?" Clarke asked, a little confused.

"Ever since my mother died," Jon replied, a soft smile on his face. "I was in a bad place and my father's not exactly an easy guy to get along with. He shut himself away after mom died… didn't talk to Kat or I for close to three months."

"I'm sorry," Clarke replied, feeling a bit guilty. "I had no idea…"

"You don't need to apologize," he assured, motioning for her to follow him down another side alley, keeping her close to as they walked. "I was looking for trouble, anything to stop myself from thinking about her, about the finality of it. It taught me a pretty valuable lesson in the end." He slowed down now, turning up another alley out onto a wider street. "This used to be a good part of town. Everyone wanted to live and trade in Arkadia almost fifty years ago and now it's just a rundown strip of cheap lights and cheaper perfume."

"Where's the lounge?" Clarke asked, looking about them.

"Up the road here; it's in an old townhouse but I bought the townhouse next to it and the rundown apartments behind it," Jon pointed up the wide street towards another intersection. "My property now encompasses the entire corner, almost one hundred and fifty thousand square feet between the four buildings." He escorted her up the street, toward the lounge, the front of it more prestigious than Clarke had imagined. It was an old townhouse, obviously built long ago with a wide stone staircase leading up to a set of ornate double doors. Over the stoop was a pointed roof made of ornate stone carvings fading with the weather and wear. Jon escorted her up the faded stone steps to the front doors, pushing a simple black button on an intercom on the lintel.

"Who is it?" came a man's voice over the intercom, fuzzy and faded.

"Jon Murphy," he replied, the doors immediately swinging open. There, in the entryway, stood a guard, the orange color accenting his outfit mirroring that of Murphy's own family.

"Everything is ready sir," the guard said, shutting and locking door behind them.

"Good," Jon nodded, pulling off his jacket after handing the satchel of coins to the guard. He then turned to Clarke, offering to take her cloak. She pushed her hood down, untying the ribbon before handing it too him, letting it slip off over her shoulders as she stood marveling at the rooms about them.

Clarke was immediately curious about the building they were in. It wasn't run down or dark but beautifully decorated. The foyer was open, a glass and metal chandelier hanging above them full of candles. She also saw a dark wooden staircase leading up to the second-floor landing, overlooking the space below. There were paintings on the walls depicting several different scenes. Hunts, dog races, horse races, gambling houses, bright city lights, and even lude pictures of women adorned the walls of the three main rooms. The one to the right was full of smoke and tables lined with green felt. The other was a dimly lit room through a curtain where the noises of cheering and laughter could be heard. Clarke had been so fascinated with the décor that she didn't notice Jon's long gaze.

When she finally looked at him he smiled, glancing about the foyer. "So, you like it then?"

"I wasn't expecting this," Clarke admitted, biting her lip. "I was expecting a dark room with couches and tables full of money, women, and booze."

"There are couches, women, and booze," he nodded motioning toward the darker room. "But I don't think that's any place for you."

"Probably not," Clarke grinned, looking about at the paintings. She blushed when she spotted a scene that looked like it was painted thousands of years ago, depicting sexual conquests of Greek or Roman gods. Jon noticed and offered his arm, motioning toward the stairs.

"My office is upstairs," he pointed, smiling as she wrapped her arm in his. "We can wait there if you want."

"Probably would be best," she chuckled, squeezing his arm.

Jon then turned to man who greeted them at the door, handing him their cloaks and taking the satchel back. "Inform me the moment they arrive. I want everyone in the lounge on alert. Don't scare the guests but try and keep the peace." The man only nodded before turning around, heading for the hallway that lead into the back of the lounge along the staircase.

Jon patted her hand and led the way up the stairs and onto the second-floor landing, opening a door immediately on their right. It was a decent sized room, a small wet bar along the far wall and a wood stove against the other. There was a decent sized desk but the lounge chairs and couch took up most of the space. It wasn't badly decorated either, much like the foyer it had a high ceiling covered in reliefs and ornate patterns. It was all white and the walls were a burnt orange, accenting the stylish charcoal and white fixtures. It screamed Jon and she enjoyed getting to see his personal tastes.

"Please, make yourself comfortable," Jon insisted, motioning to the room in general. "It's my home away from home. Would you like something to drink? Eat?"

"I'll take a drink," she smiled, moving to sit on the couch. She sat down, comfortably enjoying the softness of the cushions. "What do you have?"

"I've got almost everything," he smirked. "Two red wines, two white, four bottles of moonshine, all of them various flavors, as well as ales, beers, and meads. If you're a fan of whiskey, bourbon, gin, rum, and vodka, I've got that as well. What's your preference?"

"Make me something fruity," she shrugged, leaning back against the couch, watching him playfully. She could tell he wasn't a bartender but he tried, making her a sweet drink with fruit juice. He handed it to her with a smirk before sitting down on the couch next to her, leaning back comfortably.

"So, this is the outfit, huh?" he asked, glancing over at her as he sipped some of his rum. "Tell me, what is it with girls and outfits?"

"Don't you like it?" she asked, hiding her grin behind her drink. "I thought it made me look more mature."

"I didn't say that," he assured, looking her up and down one more time. "I just didn't know clothes were that important."

"You liar," Clarke grinned, motioning to his own outfit. Jon was wearing a thick turtle neck that hung loose around his chest, his stylish dark jeans pulling together the look that was accented with orange stitches. "Just look at how you're dressed."

"To you," Jon corrected, his cheeks flushing quickly. "What I meant to say was that I didn't know clothes meant that much to you."

"I didn't want them to think I was some sort of spoiled teenager looking for thrills," Clarke admitted, biting her lip, scanning her outfit. "Is it too much?"

"Honestly?" Jon asked, a smirk forming on his lips as he looked at her. "It reminds me of a sexy school teacher. All you need is the glasses and you'd be set."

"I was hoping to look more mature," she sighed, looking away from him shyly. "I didn't want to look weak."

"Don't get me wrong," he replied, taking sip from his glass. "It totally works. You look way more mature and a little intimidating." He then chuckled, leaning back against the couch. "These guys have never even come close to speaking with a proper woman so this works out just fine."

"You seem so confident," Clarke said, taking another drink to settle her nerves. "I feel a little silly about this whole thing."

"Don't sell yourself short," Jon assured, looking sideways at her. "You're smart, fierce, and you're the closest thing to class these kinds of criminals have ever seen. They'll take you seriously."

"Good," Clarke said, crossing one leg over the other, making the skirt ride up higher than she anticipated. Jon pretended not to notice, sipping his drink and enjoying the silence about them. She admired him like that; she was sure he enjoyed women, the same as any man but he wasn't some uncontrollable pig. He didn't stare at her like some sort of meal and he wasn't pushy. He was, despite his reputation, a good guy. "Hey, Jon?"

"Hmm?" he replied, looking over at her slowly, their eyes meeting.

"Why are you really being so nice to me?" Clarke asked, unsure if she wanted to know the answer.

"What do you mean?" Jon asked, turning to look at her directly now.

"I mean, are you doing it because you genuinely care or are you just using our friendship to your advantage?"

Jon sat there a moment, silently considering her before he smiled, his hand going out to touch her upper arm, gently squeezing it. "Listen," he said, his voice never wavering as he spoke, the certainty in it ringing throughout the room. "We're both in precarious positions. We've agreed to a partnership that could definitely become more but I'm not a guy to beat around the bush and use innuendo to get what I want. I like you but I'm not the kind of guy who just falls head over heels for a pretty girl either. In fact, I'm not even looking for anything serious right now. It is too much responsibility and I don't like the feeling of being weighed down. I need to be there for my friends and for Kat."

"You're more than you seem, Jon," Clarke smiled, reaching up to place her hand over his as he gently caressed her arm. "I appreciate the honesty too. I don't want Kat to have to take on this kind of responsibility so if I can help her brother out, in any way, I will." She bit her lip now, feeling a blush rising in her cheeks. "I also want to get to know you better. There is still another side of you I have yet to see."

"You think I'm that complicated, huh?" he asked, moving a little closer to her, his hand feeling like fire under her touch, so warm and inviting.

"You really going to pretend like you aren't?" she replied, squeezing his hand gently, watching his icy blue eyes as he stared back at her.

"Not as complicated as you," he whispered, his other hand leaving his drink and resting gently on her hip. "Your absolute chaos, you know? Hot one moment, cold the next… it's amazing. You can be vicious when you need to be but kind, almost timid, at other times. You're clearly someone to take seriously."

"You're bold," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "I believe your thumb is massaging my hip, Mr. Murphy."

"I believe your hand is gripping my shirt, Miss Griffin" he retorted, a smirk spreading over his face as Clarke realized her free hand had spread out over his chest, clutching at the thick and plush fabric.

"I…" she whispered, stilling her hand and letting it rest against his chest. "I didn't realize…"

"Neither did I," he assured, his hand that was on her hip squeezing gently. He then glanced down at her hand, still over the top of his own as he gently gripped her arm. She noticed the longing look in his eyes and immediately felt embarrassed, looking down at his hand in hers. She'd never kissed anyone before, never done anything like dating and she certainly wasn't sleeping around. She may have been a little old fashioned about this but she wanted the man she slept with to be a man she truly loved. Jon must have noticed how nervous she looked because he brought his hand up from her hip to gently push her hair back over her ear.

"Sorry," she said, not looking up at him. "I'm just… I've never…"

"No need to explain," Jon interrupted, running his thumb over jawline and resting on her other arm. "After all, I was your first date. It's only natural to be curious."

"I remember," Clarke admitted, the memories from the other night still bright in her mind. She also remembered the end, when they were painfully interrupted by her father's guards. She bit her lip now, unconsciously staring at his with both fascination and shyness. Jon only grinned, leaning forward and pressing his forehead to hers, his free hand going up her shoulder and cradling her neck.

"Would you like me to kiss you?" he asked, his breath hot on her lips as he watched her closely. She licked her lips unconsciously and felt the soft breath that escaped his as she did so. She could tell he wanted to kiss her and was holding back for her sake, his self-control winning out over the lust that was brewing behind his eyes.

"I've never…"

Before she could say anymore, Jon leaned back slightly, his thumb caressing her jawline just below her ear as he leaned in. It was a soft kiss, gentle to the touch and chaste. His eyes drifted shut and she could feel the soft but warm pressure of his lips over hers, closing her eyes as well. It was electrifying, a simple but promising kiss that reflected the gentle intentions Jon was trying to convey. She didn't want to pull away from him quite yet but before she could hold him to her, he pulled back, his eyes focusing on her flushed face and pouting lips.

"There, your first kiss," he whispered, pressing his forehead to hers again, bumping their noses together gently. "Not bad for your first time, huh?"

Clarke couldn't speak really, blushing brightly and nodding as she looked away, removing her hand from his. Jon just chuckled, placing another gentle kiss on her shoulder, making her turn to look at him again. He just grinned at the surprise on her face and pulled away, moving so that they weren't sitting so close to one another. Jon sipped at his drink now, smiling over at Clarke when he caught her looking up at him. Clarke felt foolish really, wanting him to kiss her again, without thought to what it could mean. She just wanted that feeling again, the rush of heat and the uncontrollable urge to hold him close. It had fled all too quickly and before she could reply to him, there was a knock at the door. The guard from downstairs entered a moment later and Jon looked at her with a knowing glance. Percival and Ban were already here, waiting to talk to them.

* * *

 **Angst and drama are abound! Thanks so much my readers! Please review.**


	13. Chapter 13: An Understanding

**Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man's character, give him power. - Abraham Lincoln**

* * *

"Jon Murphy," said a taller, more stout man as he entered the office, his eyes not even recognizing Clarke as he crossed to the wet bar, pouring himself a drink. The man behind him, a shorter but muscular man with a shaved head and tattooed arms mirrored him, shaking Jon's hand as he passed to make himself a drink. After pouring himself some whiskey in a glass, the first man turned around, spotting Clarke and nearly dropping his drink. "Miss Griffin," he sputtered, moving toward her as she lounged on the couch alone.

"Ah, yes," Jon smiled, moving to stand next to the couch. "I don't believe you've been properly introduced. Percival this is Clarke Griffin, daughter of Jacob and Abby Griffin. Clarke, this is Percival and his associate Ban."

Clarke extended her hand and Percival took it, setting his new drink down on the coffee table in front of them. After each of the men shook Clarke's hand, they sat down across from her, their eyes firmly fixed on the blonde in front of them. Clarke could tell, without Jon moving to sit next to her, that each of them were admiring her in unwholesome ways. "I'm very happy to finally meet you, Percival, Ban," she sipped at her fruity drink now, smiling over at Jon as he turned to them, his own drink back in his hand.

"So, gentlemen," Jon said, a smirk on his lips. "Tell me, what can we do to make you happy?"

"We?" Ban asked, eyeing both the teens in front of him. "I wasn't aware Clarke Griffin was a part of this negotiation."

"She's invested her money into the reconstruction of a new lounge," Jon nodded, motioning to Clarke. "She and I plan on using it as a legitimate front for all our other businesses."

"You've got to be joking?" Ban replied, his dark eyes narrowing on the two of them.

"Is there something wrong?" Clarke asked, looking over the middle-aged man with quiet contempt. "Am I not capable of running a business?"

"I'm sure that isn't what he meant," Percival interjected, smiling over at her sweetly. "He just meant that a seedy business such as this isn't typically where young aristocratic ladies get involved."

"I'm not like most of them," Clarke said, her tone a little icier than she'd planned on.

"We can see that," Percival smiled, admiring her legs that peaked out from under the short skirt. "So, you're Murphy's partner in this venture? Last I checked, your families weren't exactly on friendly terms."

"Do you have frequent dealings with my father?" Clarke asked, feeling a little indignant toward his patronizing tone. He shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck slowly.

"We don't meet, I only speak to his associates," Percival confirmed, taking another drink of his whiskey.

"So, you understand that he doesn't appreciate his time being wasted," Clarke continued, earning a warning look from Jon.

"Right," Percival nodded, a sheepish grin on his face. "It's not that I mind your involvement or anything. I'm just a little surprised is all."

"This all seems rather convenient for you, Murphy," Ban interrupted, looking between them. "There's obviously a reason for her to be here so spit it out. What's this new deal of yours?"

"Forgive him," Percival urged, looking sideways at Ban as he pushed his hand through his blonde hair. "He's never been a man for manners."

"The deal is quite simple," Jon offered, taking a sip of his drink again, staying close to Clarke as they sat together on the couch. "Instead of paying the house thirty percent of the take, you'll pay twenty and in exchange, you'll allow my men to take over here at the lounge as security."

"And what about our product? And the money? Do you expect us to just trust your word that it'll be safe without our men here to guard it?"

"We won't fully exclude you from the new casino," Jon said, shaking his head. "You'll all be here, selling your products and pushing money like you always have. There will be no change in the process."

"This seems like an ultimatum," Ban continued, eyeing them closely still. "What do you get out of it?"

"Twenty percent of your cut," Jon nodded, looking over at Clarke gently. She smiled, glancing back at the two men across from them.

"I don't understand why you'd lower your own cut," Ban replied, a pure look of confusion spreading over his face. "Is it because that's the deal you gave the Blake's as well? Is this just because she's involved?"

"I think I understand," Percival spoke, grinning widely. "If I'm not mistaken, you recently turned sixteen, right Miss Griffin?"

"I did," Clarke confirmed, a smile spreading over her cheeks. "What is it you think you understand, Percival?"

"You're the new blood," he chuckled, downing the rest of his cup and setting it on the table before them. "I knew the time would be coming soon but I never imagined you'd get involved at such a young age. We never received word or a hint that you'd be interested considering your status as heiress; we don't get many interactions with many and even fewer like to get their hands dirty."

"You obviously don't know me very well," Clarke responded, a smirk on her face. "I've been elbow deep in dirty for the past few years, working as an intern and a surgeon. I hear you're both good at killing so I won't have to explain to you the gruesome details."

"What I don't understand is why a high-born girl like you would want to invest in some sort of underground lounge anyway," Ban commented, downing the rest of his own drink. "What exactly are you getting out of this?"

"Ban," Percival warned, looking over at him. "You may be an ally but I won't let you insult her again."

"I'm merely getting used to the waters," Clarke said, making both men look at her curiously. "I know that one day I'll have to take on the full responsibility of the Griffin name but until that time, I think it is best to understand how the game is really played. My father and I may be similar but we do not always see eye to eye." Clarke finished her drink, setting the cup down on the table in front of her. Jon stood up now, going to refill it at the bar as she spoke. "You asked what I'd get out of this and the answer is simple; influence."

"And your father is alright with this?" Percival asked, his voice hinting at the skepticism he was feeling.

"He does not know," Clarke smirked. "But he will, as soon as the news spreads."

"Here's the ultimatum," Ban pointed, eyeing her closely. "I knew it…"

"And you expect me to defy your father and side with you on this little venture? Allow myself to be bossed around by a teenage girl?"

"I expect you to understand your place," Clarke fired back, her voice stern. "My father is not a young man and won't live forever. I shouldn't have to explain to you the importance of that reality or the consequences, should you refuse me."

"Why are we even here anymore?" Ban asked, moving to stand. "This was a total waste of time. They're just running us in circles and I won't risk my neck for a couple of teenagers."

"You're clearly not thinking this through," Jon smirked, sitting across from them and handing Clarke her refilled drink. "Where are you going to peddle your products if you don't come to terms with us? Where are you going to get a better deal? And more importantly, when Clarke does take over her father's position, who's going to save you from the backlash for betraying her?"

"You're putting me in a dangerous position," Percival confessed, looking between the two of them. "You understand that if your father finds out I knew about this, he'll probably have me locked up?"

"And I'm under no obligation to agree to anything," Ban said, looking between them. "I answer to the Jaha family."

"Have you met Wells?" Clarke asked, sitting up on the couch and looking him square in the eye. "He is not like his father; he's my best friend but he's not one to get his hands dirty with something like this. He'd be more likely cut you all off than lend you aid."

"His father-."

"Is older than mine," Clarke said, eyeing him. "You might as well just agree to these terms. You'll be guaranteed for the future with me, otherwise you may just lose all your business and I doubt Thelonious will be happy about that. Tell him 20% and take the credit for it."

"And if he finds out you're working with Murphy?" Ban replied, squeezing the back of the chair, turning toward the bar to pour himself another drink.

"You plead ignorance," Jon interjected, smirking. "You tell him I never mentioned Clarke Griffin; not once."

"And you'll have to say the same thing," Clarke informed, looking over the blonde man sitting in front of her. "If you remain loyal to me, and keep this secret, I promise you'll both become rich men."

"You still didn't answer my question though," Ban said, eyeing them both as he downed his entire drink of whiskey at once. "What are you getting out of this?"

"You'll answer to me," Clarke grinned, moving to stand now, Percival and Jon mirroring her. "You inform me, run the monthly income by me, and you'll also run the gang activity by me. I want to know our movements every single day; do either of you have a secretary?"

"Excuse me?" Ban laughed, looking at her with a grin.

"Is something amusing?" she asked, her eyes narrowed. "Do either of you know how to read or write?"

Both men hesitated a moment and Jon grinned, standing next to Clarke. "I'll assign them a couple," he laughed, shaking his head at her definition of efficiency. He then raised his glass, looking between the two older men in front of him. "To the new blood."

"To the new blood," both men echoed, drinking the last of their drinks, Clarke smiling up at them in victory. She felt elated, almost bursting at the possibility of having real power as both men grimaced uncertainly at her. She knew exactly how to convince them and the plan she'd so quickly thrown together had worked out better than she could have possibly hoped.

"Now, before we leave there is one last thing to discuss," Percival said, looking between them. "The new shipment of pills from the lab comes in four days. How do you want us to proceed?"

"The lounge will be undergoing renovations for the next month," Jon admitted, looking them over. "We don't plan on being open for official business so all your shipments will be brought in via construction crew. I'll send you the instructions over your handheld."

"Then, it's been a pleasure doing business with you," Percival nodded, extending his hand one last time. After both men had left, Jon couldn't help but laugh, wrapping Clarke into a tight hug and nearly lifting her from the ground in the excitement.

"You were badass!" he said, pulling away. "I thought you said you've never done this before?"

"I haven't," Clarke grinned. "I looked up their psyche and criminal profiles. It was easy to access and once I did it was easy to find out their motives. They're the type to save their own skin without second thought for others."

"Isn't that dangerous?" Jon questioned, looking back at the closed door. "What if they run straight to Thelonious and your father?"

"They won't," she smirked. "Taking the credit for lowering the percentage of our take and being guaranteed a viable out is all they needed. Just in case, I threw in that line about being rich men."

"You're pretty amazing," Jon admitted, grabbing their empty drinks and setting them on the bar, busying himself with another refill. "I can't believe what's happening.; it's almost too good to be true."

"You're just used to taking shit," she admitted, a playful grin on her face. "Now, we have to discuss how we're going to redecorate the lounge. How are you remodeling? Are you putting in a larger second floor or are you thinking of just a massive ground level space?"

"Easy," Jon said, raising his hand. "For now, we need to discuss what we're going to do once your father finds out about our partnership."

"I'll take care of it," Clarke grinned, placing a hand on her hip. "My father and I are a lot alike. I know if he's mad at me, which he's never had occasion to be, he'll come straight to me. He won't go about thwarting my plans before talking to me first. He knows how serious I am about the future of our family."

"I'll trust you on that because if he orders a raid on this place, while product and money is being moved in and out of here, we'll have a big problem."

"Leave it to me," she grinned, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I know how to handle Jacob Griffin."

Before Murphy could reply there was another knock at the door and the same guard from downstairs came in again. Jon only looked at him quizzically before he approached and whispered something into Jon's ear.

"I see," Jon sighed, looking over at Clarke. "Give me a moment and then escort him up." The guard nodded and left the room now, quietly snapping the door shut behind him.

"What was that?" Clarke asked, eyeing him curiously over her drink.

"We have a visitor," Jon nodded, moving to stand next to her as she lounged on the couch again, her legs crossed over one another. "It appears that a representative from the Blake affiliation is here and is requesting a meeting."

"Really?" Clarke asked, her eyes going slightly wide. "Why? I thought you'd settled terms…"

"I did, yes," Jon smiled, sitting on the couch next to her. "But, I think there is something you need to work out with a certain Blake."

"What do you mean?" Clarke asked, feeling a bit embarrassed, her stomach flipping in anticipation.

"I mean that I'm your friend," Jon assured, placing a hand on her arm. "You're a beautiful, smart, stunning, and sexy woman but like I said earlier; I'm just not looking for that kind of relationship right now."

"I can understand that you don't want to be tied down with expectation but that doesn't mean that we can't be more than friends," Clarke reasoned, looking over at him incredulously. "I don't understand why you kissed me if you weren't interested…"

"Two reasons," Jon smiled, sitting next to her, not looking away. "Because I'm a petty enough guy to claim your first kiss; that will always be mine."

"And the second?" Clarke asked, her eyebrow quirked.

"Because, despite how I might feel about you, there is someone else more apt to the task your undertaking," Jon whispered, still sitting comfortably beside her on the couch. "I'm just not ready, or willing, to take on the responsibility that would come with marrying the only heir to the Griffin family. Not to mention that we would quickly have to produce an heir and kids aren't a part of my near future. Someday I'd like to be a father but I don't want my children living in the world we live in now. So, instead of marrying you I've decided to give you my friendship and support."

Clarke sat silent for a moment, trying to comprehend what Jon was telling her. Until now, she hadn't realized what a marriage to her would do to the man she chose. It wasn't something she'd fully considered and Jon's words had brought home the finality of what she was asking. Of course, it would be a huge burden on someone like Jon, who desired his freedom and privacy; it would also be a burden on Kat. Clarke had been blind to what she was truly offering and immediately felt a sheepish. Jon noticed because he chuckled, squeezing her arm.

"Don't worry, it'll be alright. I'm on your side still," Jon affirmed, smiling earnestly. "I've not met anyone like you and even if it is just friendship, I still want to have a relationship with you."

"You're sure?" Clarke asked, still a little bewildered. "I mean, I understand what you're saying but are you sure a friendship with me would still benefit you?"

"We're still partners here, at the casino," he motioned, nodding at the safe where he'd deposited her silver. "And no matter which suitor you choose, I'll always have your back."

"No matter which?" Clarke repeated, eyeing him closely. "You know my options are limited at this point. I can play it safe and maintain a working relationship with the council by marrying Landell as is probably expected. Or, I could take a risk on Bellamy Blake and hope that he doesn't stab me in the back and take my children. Seems like an easy choice at this point."

"Clarke," Jon reasoned, glancing at the door. "Don't be mad but the representative for the Blake's isn't just anyone. Bellamy is also keen to invest and he wanted to speak directly to you."

"You planned this?" Clarke asked, her eyes going wide. "Is this a setup? Why are you ambushing me after everything went so well tonight?"

"I didn't want you to think it was an ambush," Jon pleaded, keeping his hand on her arm as she moved to stand. He mirrored her, looking down into her eyes with a look of hesitancy and worry. "It wasn't intended that way; please, just listen to what he has to say."

"You're still working with him?" Clarke asked, her eyes narrowed as she stared up at him. Just then there was a knock on the doors and they swung open, revealing Bellamy Blake. He came sauntering in, his arm in a sling and his hair tousled as if he'd just risen from sleep. He looked between Jon and Clarke closely before coming into the room, the doors shutting behind him.

"I see you've told her," Bellamy smiled, moving to make himself a drink. "So, what plans have we made so far? I personally like the décor in the entrance but I wonder if we can't expand the entrance and build the gaming rooms directly off from them. How many square feet do we have to work with?"

"I don't understand," Clarke said, stepping away from Jon slightly. "What's really going on? Why are you out of bed already?"

"I'll let you two talk," Jon said, moving away from Clarke and toward the door. "I'll be back soon with refreshments. This is going to be a long night." He then left the room, snapping the door shut behind him quickly.

"Is something wrong?" Bellamy asked, taking a sip from his new drink. He'd already had three before he got there.

"You're supposed to be resting," she said, her eyes narrowed. She didn't want to admit that being here, alone with Bellamy, was somewhat frightening. He was, after all, still her enemy. "Is something wrong?" Her eyes were a mix of concern and exasperation which Bellamy heartily enjoyed in his buzzed state.

"I'm fine princess," he smiled. "I just wanted to speak with you, say hello."

"Hello," she said, her brow furrowing as she stared at him. "Is that all?"

"Why so cold?" he asked, his voice low and calming. "I thought you said we could work together the other day."

"I said that I'd considered it," she replied, glancing about her now. Bellamy could tell she was a little nervous and smiled, taking a step toward her.

"Listen, I just need some time to talk to you," he confessed, his lips pulling into a smirk. "Are you busy?"

"Not anymore," she said, motioning at the door Jon had just left through.

"Is that a no?" he retorted, the sarcasm evident in his tone as he stared down at her.

"I'm assuming you have something persuasive to say," she replied, her eyes portraying the impatience she was feeling. "So, what is it?"

"It's a proposal," he nodded, taking another drink from his glass as he moved to sit down across from the couch she had just been on. "I realize that you may think you know me but I'd like to prove your assumptions wrong."

"This is what you bothered me with?" Clarke asked, her eyes wide. "You have some nerve…"

"I do," he insisted, her brow furrowing at him as he interrupted her. He finished the drink now, setting the glass on the table before them. He then motioned for her to sit which she did slowly, the glimpse of her legs under the skirt making Bellamy smile. "You want honesty, here it is. I know you're looking for suitors and I know who your considering. Someone on your side would secure the Griffin name and I'm sure that's a stipulation of the marriage contract. I also know that Jon isn't going to commit to something like this, especially when I can offer you everything you want. If you want the council to support your peaceful agenda, you're going to have to choose someone with more influence across the aisle."

"Is this your version of romance?" Clarke asked, the skepticism and annoyance etched into her knitted brow. "Some proposal…"

"I want to have an equal chance, just like everyone else you're considering," Bellamy continued, raising an eyebrow at her. "So, I'll make you this offer that way we are both on the same page. You want your children to have the Griffin name and I want my children and their mother to be happy."

"How considerate," Clarke scoffed.

"So, we'll compromise," he continued, raising his index finger. "As part of our engagement contract, and marriage alliance, I will allow all the women born to us take the Griffin name so their sons can carry on your family legacy."

"How many children are you planning on?" Clarke asked, her eyes wide.

"Seven, maybe eight," Bellamy grinned, waving his hand. "Not a big deal."

"Not a big deal?" she gasped, looking away with a blush creeping into her cheeks. "That's a lot…"

"A big family, four boys and three girls, maybe a set of twins," Bellamy smiled, his voice light and whimsical. "Spend the summers at the Blake estates, winters in Arkadia between the Griffin and Blake villas. We'll have a few dogs, maybe a farm in the country…"

"You're drunk," Clarke observed, looking at his flushed face and glazed eyes. "Is this supposed to impress me? Your grand plans for a family?"

"I'm not joking," Bellamy said, his eyes locking with hers, narrowing slowly. Clarke couldn't help but grin at how serious he was, even if a smile was starting to tug at his lips. "I want a big family and I want to spend as much time with them as possible. Being slightly buzzed has nothing to do with it."

"You're getting ahead of yourself," she insisted, grabbing her own drink from the table. "And I don't think we'll ever be on the same page when it comes to this. You just want the perks of a powerful marriage and I want love. There is quite the distinction between us."

"Love?" Bellamy asked, watching her closely. "You're trying to find love in all of this?"

"Yes, maybe you don't understand what it is but to me it means a great deal," Clarke hissed, her eyes narrowed on him. "I don't have time to teach you how to love, Bellamy. I'd rather we just work toward a mutual understanding; it's obvious we aren't at the same emotional level."

"You are feisty," Bellamy sighed, leaning back on the couch and watching her. "You think I'm trying to work you over, manipulate you? Why would I do it if that's what you're expecting me to do? I'm not working an angle. I'm seriously proposing this so that way you can consider me without worrying about ending your family name. I'm really doing you a favor…"

"Favor?" she remarked, glaring at him. "You've been working an angle ever since we met at my party. That's all you do; you use people and throw them away like they're nothing. Why would I consider marrying a man like that?"

"Everything I do, I do for my family, for the people that I love," Bellamy ground out, his temper flaring. "Do you think you're the only one trying to protect people? Grow up Clarke; you know it is more complicated than that. You're not stupid."

"And what is stopping you from erasing my family's name from history? What is to stop you from using our children against me?"

"You," Bellamy said, in a matter-of-fact tone, his eyes watching her face as she stared over at him. "Do you honestly think I'm that much of a monster? Weren't you the one who said this was going to be an uphill battle?"

"For your friendship," Clarke affirmed, her brow creasing in confusion. "I thought there had to be more to you and I wanted to find out what it was. After learning how you use and hurt people, I don't think I want anything from you."

"Not even friendship?" Bellamy asked, moving to lean closer to her over the table. "Because I'll be honest with you; you're very attractive and the more you push me away, the more alluring it is to me." Clarke moved further away from him now, looking away in embarrassment. Bellamy couldn't help but admire the pink tinting her cheeks and the way her arms crossed under her bust, reflecting the nervousness she felt. "You said that you thought there was more to me, that there was something underneath the armor. Why don't you find out?"

"I'm sure you get a thrill out of intimidating people," Clarke said, looking him in the eye, her courage overcoming her embarrassment. "But it won't work on me. I know you can threaten, intimidate, and bully anyone and they'll just fall in line but not me. I won't be harassed by some man-child who thinks he has even the slightest notion of who I am and what I want. Do you understand me?"

"Loud and clear, princess," Bellamy smiled, admiring the way her eyes lit up and her jaw set as she berated him. The atmosphere around them was quite tense and Bellamy couldn't help but admire the beauty of it. She was flushed but in full control and Bellamy couldn't stop himself from staring. "You're beautiful when you're mad."

Her brow knitted together at this and she looked anywhere but at him. She was contemplating his words and after a moment of silence, she squared her shoulders, biting her lip before speaking. "I'm only mad because you're supposed to be in bed, resting," Clarke ground out, anger still evident in her eyes as she moved to look straight at him. She was observing him, her eyes moving from his lightly freckled cheeks, down his neck and then to his sling. She analyzed his appearance, taking in his tussled hair and his flushed face before standing up and placing the back of her hand on his forehead. "You're a little warm; is your chest heavy or are you having trouble breathing?"

"No," Bellamy confirmed, watching her withdraw her hand from his forehead. "I feel fine, Clarke. I just had to get out of bed; I hate being cooped up even if it is at my own home."

"You're so careless," Clarke sighed, moving closer to him to inspect the sling. She adjusted the strap gently, her eyes never leaving her hands as she worked, tightening the sling so his arm was supported closer to his chest. "This has to stay tight or your wound will reopen." Bellamy noticed the worried look in her eyes and the way her voice was strained as she spoke, her hands pulling away from him now. She moved to sit next to him, this time staring up at his face as she placed her hands in her lap. Bellamy could see the confusion and the fear behind her eyes as she looked at him.

"I'm sorry," Bellamy said, catching her by surprise. He wasn't sure if she was surprised by the words themselves or his sincere tone but either way she looked up at him with wide eyes. "I know I should stay in bed but there is so much at stake for me and my family. I can't afford to sit by idle and unable to control the situation. I'm just not that kind of guy."

"I understand," Clarke drawled, speaking slowly and calmly, her eyes not leaving his. "I understand a little more than you think but as your doctor, I have to warn you against stress and excessive movement. It would be a real shame if there was permanent damage."

"Well, if my doctor insists on bedrest," Bellamy replied slowly, grinning down at her and making her smile back. "Then I guess I'll have to comply. However, I don't intend on shirking my responsibilities; some things are just too important to let slip by."

"You may do whatever you want," Clarke shrugged, not looking away from him. "So long as it's in bed."

"Really?" he smirked at her, wiggling an eyebrow.

"You know what I mean," Clarke snapped, the pink returning to her cheeks. "Don't overexert yourself."

"Do you make house calls?" Bellamy chuckled, making her blush even brighter. She picked up her drink at that, sipping it nervously before looking back at Bellamy. "Relax," he breathed, shaking his head slightly. "I'm just joking. I wouldn't dream of asking you into my bed until your good and ready."

"Who said I'd ever be good and ready?" she retorted, her voice low and her eyes alight with indignation. She turned away from him now, putting her foot back down and looking anywhere but at him.

"Maybe not," Bellamy said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But a guy can dream."

"You're an asshole," she replied, her voice soft and sweet, hiding the irritation she was feeling.

"Sometimes," he confirmed, making her glance up at him. "Other times, I can be a pretty good guy."

"I've seen good-guy Bellamy," Clarke commented, looking away from him again. "For a split second, I saw him reading to his sister, her tiny hands curled up on his chest as she listened. It was an endearing scene even though it was short."

"Do you really care for her?" Bellamy asked, his voice more skeptical than he intended it to be. At her mention of Octavia, he couldn't help but be suspicious of Clarke's motives. Everyone knew Bellamy adored his little sister and would do anything to make her happy. "Or are you just using her to get under my skin?"

"I don't use people like that," Clarke retorted, an irritated tone to her voice. "I genuinely care for her. She's sweet and innocent and everything that I'm trying to protect." Clarke then grinned, catching Bellamy by surprise. "She's also stubborn and kind but fierce when it comes to family. I can see your influence over her and it makes me question whether you're the monster I've been told you are."

"People in our position can't help but become monsters," Bellamy observed, still looking at her. "You see a monster in me and I honestly think that frightens you. You're new to this game so I understand your fears. I was new once too and know that you're afraid of turning into a monster yourself."

"Don't presume to-."

"I was the same way," Bellamy confessed, catching her eye. "I saw what my father had to do and how he did it and I didn't want to be like him. I didn't understand how he could do it, really. I couldn't understand how he lived with himself, embracing his family with blood stained hands."

"That's not my way," Clarke said, her voice low and breathy. "I won't gamble with our people's lives."

"Just our people or all people?" Bellamy questioned, raising an eyebrow at her.

"All people," Clarke assured, her voice becoming steadier and more defiant. "But our people deserve to prosper, to be safe outside and inside our borders."

"Why draw the line when you know that life isn't black and white?" Bellamy asked, observing her expressions closely. "I'm not making fun of you. I'm asking you, honestly, why do you draw that line? Why are grounder lives less significant than ours? What makes them expendable but not us?"

Clarke didn't answer him, her eyes scanning his face before observing the table in front of them. She didn't really have an answer to that question, at least not a good one. Their ancestors fought the grounders for years before coming to an agreement with the commander and the coalition. It was because of Arkadia's technological advances that they could live, keeping grounder armies at bay for generations. Of all people, Clarke thought Bellamy knew this. He only looked down at her though, Clarke catching his eye as she wrestled with a viable answer.

"If you are willing to sacrifice life, grounder or Arkadian," Bellamy continued, his voice soft. "Then you're no different than me."

Clarke shifted uneasily on the couch, her eyes looking anywhere but at Bellamy. She didn't need to be scolded by someone like him but the more she mulled over his words, the more annoyed she became. There were many more grounders in the world than Arkadian's and thanks to the Ark, many know how to use advanced technology. It was as simple as kill or be killed in most cases. Azgeda and Lake People have hated, hunted, and killed hundreds of Arkadians over the past century and Clarke had to deal with some of their handiwork first hand.

"Don't be mad," Bellamy finally whispered, Clarke looking over to see he was leaning toward her, sitting awfully close. "Asking yourself questions like this isn't a bad thing. After all, asking the hard questions brings you one step closer to the right answer."

"I want to save our people," Clarke finally said, her voice just above a whisper. "I want Arkadian families to be able to travel and trade freely without worrying about being captured, tortured, and murdered by savages still stuck in their old ways. The world needs this chance to move forward and Azgeda and their allies are holding us back."

"You're playing a very long, and complicated, game," Bellamy observed, happy with the fact that Clarke didn't move away from him. "You do realize that Arkadian lives will hang in the balance no matter what agenda you push?"

"I'm not stupid," Clarke replied, turning to look directly up at him, his proximity only fueling the tense atmosphere. "I understand the costs of war but right now we're at peace and still losing hundreds of Arkadians a year. Perhaps we should focus on that first?"

"What do you suggest?" Bellamy asked, Clarke still staring up at him. He must have caught her off guard again because she simply looked back at him, her eyes scanning his for any hint of dishonesty or betrayal. "Clarke, what is your suggestion?" he asked again, this time making her blink up at him before looking down at her knees to try and focus.

"Street gangs are responsible for over half of the violent crimes in this city," Clarke whispered, shooting a look at him.

"Are you suggesting we get rid of the gangs?" Bellamy asked, his voice low and slow.

"Not all at once," Clarke admitted, looking sideways at him. "But we need to have firm control of the underground and push a non-violent agenda."

"Non-violence?" Bellamy asked, his eyebrows raised. "How are you going to achieve that? You do know that all the gang leaders in Arkadia answer to the heads of families like ours, right?"

"I'm aware," Clarke snapped, looking up at him. "Yet another reason to make friends with those who would be on the council."

"Or you could marry one," he winked, making her blush again.

"Asshole," she murmured, looking away. "It's a serious problem, you know? The gang violence."

"I'm aware," Bellamy agreed, feeling a pang of guilt over the gang violence he'd sanctioned over the past couple years and the men they'd come across just last week. "But we can't get rid of the black market and those who use it so easily. If we don't control it, someone else will and they won't be so tame. The grounders would spill quite a bit of blood to be able to control it for themselves so maybe we should proceed cautiously."

"I have plans," Clarke nodded, not looking up at him still. "Plans I'm hoping won't fall through with Jon."

"You're a quick worker," Bellamy noted, wondering what she could mean by plans. He wasn't about to let her push him away now, now when his father's partnership with Azgeda was so close to being cemented. "Anything I can help with?"

"I'm not telling you what it is," Clarke said, glancing at him over her shoulder. "I don't trust you to with my interests."

"You're stubborn," Bellamy smirked, catching her eye. "But why is it all about your plans? Why is your way the only way?"

"It's the only peaceful way," Clarke retorted, her body stiff with indignation.

"According to you," Bellamy replied, his voice low. "I have plans too, you know; and not all of them involve violence."

"I don't trust that you're telling the truth," Clarke shrugged, taking another drink of her wine. "I don't trust you to take my interests seriously."

"How are we to be friends if you can't trust me?"

"I have no idea," she said, turning to look straight at him now, not realizing how close he was. She could see the flecks of gold in his dark brown eyes, the pupils almost blending in with the color of his iris. She could also see the hundreds of small, smooth, freckles and splotches that covered his cheeks. They were all shapes and sizes, each different than the next and his squared jaw and dimpled chin made him look older than the teenager that he was. She had never really looked at him so thoroughly before, his lips forming into a displeased frown when she just stared back at him, leaving the statement hanging between them.

"Neither do I," Bellamy responded, watching her stare up at him with mild interest. "Especially when you won't try to get to know me."

"I tried being nice," Clarke said, crossing her arms. "I talked to you at my party twice and you made fun of me, judged me before I even had a chance to speak. I have been trying hard at making friends with people I don't know, keeping an open mind," Clarke continued, never taking her eyes off his entrancing black orbs, the recollection making them softer. "I even tried to be your friend, deciding to give you a chance because I believe that there is something good in everyone, even someone like you." She was fuming now, her voice a frantic whisper. "But you irritate me like no other. You find a way, like some sort of parasite, to get under my skin and push all the wrong buttons. You're constantly arrogant and manipulative not to mention vindictive and selfish. Tell me, why should I put any more effort into trying to know someone like that?"

"You think you have all that figured out, don't you?" Bellamy asked, his voice low and his tone hinting at anger. "You think you can just put me in some sort of category and that's your biggest problem. You put everything into a category!" He glanced at the door before making sure to control the anger he was feeling. "You put people in categories just like you put your own happy little world in nice neat boxes. You think things will just work for you because you have hope, because you think you can build real relationships because you try to understand people like me." Bellamy could see the stubborn defiance in her eyes still as he glared down at her, feeling more irritated that she wasn't going to stand down. "Wake up, Clarke, before you get yourself hurt. If you want peace, you need to realize that there's only one way to get it. You must get your hands dirty, one way or another. There is no high ground when it comes to the world we live in and no matter how many neat and tidy boxes you use, it'll never stack. You need to face that before you get yourself or someone else hurt."

She just stared up at him, sitting stiffly on the couch only inches away. Bellamy could see the thoughts behind her bright blue eyes, the stubborn way she squared her jaw making his lip twitch into a smirk. She was radiant when angry and he couldn't help himself from enjoying the view. She noticed the smirk and the ferocity of his eyes and was immediately angered, her hand going up to strike him in irritation. She was shocked to find that his good hand was fast enough to stop her, holding her wrist gently but firmly. Their eyes met again and this time she could see a genuine smile on his face, an almost boyish twinkle in his dark eyes as she tried to pull her wrist away.

"You're so ferocious," Bellamy quipped, letting go of her wrist slowly. "I wasn't trying to be cruel; you genuinely need to understand how things work. Family means more to me than anything else, as it does for you and everyone else we know. If you're going to play this game of friendship and peace, you need to understand the rules."

"I tried being nice to you," Clarke said, finally looking away from him. She just sat silent now, her hands gripping the edge of the cushion in irritation and frustration. Bellamy felt guilty now, irritated with himself as he realized how far he'd let this go in his buzzed, and obviously confrontational, state.

"I know you did," Bellamy said, his voice more strangled than he'd intended. "And I'm sorry. I'm a drunken asshole who's failed miserably at being friendly. My emotions get the best of me and I don't always use my head."

"Like you said," she responded, her voice a whisper. "You see who people really are when their emotional."

"Does that mean we've come to an understanding?" Bellamy asked, a grimace on his face as she glanced up at him. He was glad to see the slight smile spreading over her lips as she sat there.

"I think so," Clarke sighed, looking back at him now, lulling her head over her shoulder. "But don't you ever use me again, do you understand? Not for your agenda or your family's. I will not be used like some cheap whore by you or Jon, got it?"

"If you're asking me to play fair," Bellamy smirked, making her grimace and look away. "I'll try but I meant what I said the other day. I won't let Murphy, Pike, or anyone else have you. If you want love, I guess I'll have to try even harder."

"So, was this Jon's plan or yours? To approach me here, tonight?" Clarke asked, her eyes narrowed, changing the subject entirely.

"It was mine," Bellamy affirmed, smirking at her. "You shouldn't be mad at Jon. The only reason he agreed to this was because he knew that I'd do everything to convince you to choose me. He really likes you and made me promise not to play dirty; so, here I am. Laying it all out on the line for you."

"At least someone is on my side," Clarke grumbled. "And if you think I'm just going to choose you because you're finally being honest, your dumber than you look."

"I see you two are getting along," Jon commented, shutting the door behind him. "So, have you two patched up your differences?" He was carrying a tray of small plates filled with different kinds of foods. He came over and set it down on the table, eyeing how close Clarke and Bellamy were sitting. Clarke immediately moved away, looking up at Jon curiously.

"What are these?"

"Different menu options for our restaurant," he motioned. "Simple dishes, nothing too extravagant."

"Sounds good," Bellamy commented, standing from the couch and grabbing his glass. He grabbed Clarke's, shaking it at her curiously. She nodded her head and he went to the wet bar to refill their drinks, leaving Jon to hand out the plates.

"So, what did you two work out?" Jon asked, looking at Clarke as he sat down across from her. "Do I need to arrange engagement announcements?"

"Far from it," Clarke scoffed, glancing over at Bellamy. "Even if I did choose him, an engagement announcement wouldn't be for months."

"That may be a problem," Bellamy smirked, bringing the newly poured drinks over and handing Clarke hers. "I think we need to announce it immediately, make a big celebration out of the whole affair."

"I never said I would- "

"The casino will be refurbished and fully operational in a couple months," Jon offered, grinning at Clarke.

"Listen, I don't know what game you two are playing but leave me out of it," she replied, her eyes narrowed. "I came here to discuss business plans, not relationship statuses."

"Princess," Bellamy cooed, making Clarke immediately aware of the way that one little word on his lips brought her to attention. It was different than the others, the way he almost whispered it making goosebumps form on her arms. "I believe the two go together, for you."

"I've got most of the design plans ready for the construction crews," Jon nodded, grabbing his handheld and opening a blueprint of the building. He was more than happy to change the subject on Clarke's behalf. "We'll have a formal foyer and reception area that you can access from both ground floor digital machine rooms. The second floor will be more open and extend into the other two buildings on the block. There will be the restaurant, our offices, the safes, and the VIP game rooms on this level. There will also be a reception area for the hotel and resort that can be found on floors two, three, and four."

"There is a lot to consider in this casino and resort idea," Bellamy chimed, looking over the plans. "I see you have a spa and pool on the ground floor as well."

"Yes, there will be a special access elevator for that level of the resort," Jon pointed. "There will also be a final, refurbished, fifth floor with a city-wide view. I plan on putting the gaming rooms and lounge up there."

"It looks nice but what about the décor," Clarke asked, looking at the floorplan. "Are we sticking with the current theme downstairs or are we going with a simpler design?"

"We're looking to restore the downtown district," Jon reasoned. "So, I figured we'd keep the ground floor like it was originally built. However, the VIP rooms, resort, restaurant, and lounge all need a more modern setting."

"I could sketch some ideas and send them to you when I've found something I like," Clarke offered, smirking up at Jon.

"If you get the interior, I get the exterior," Jon joked, nudging her. "Bellamy has offered to match your investment and is willing to forgo an office. We'll use his silver for the game tables and upgrades to digital games. I've commissioned Monty to program them, naturally."

"I think it'll be a wonderful marvel once it's completed," Clarke nodded. "But, the neighborhood is less than desirable. We can't do something about that?"

"I was actually considering that," Bellamy pointed, looking between them from where he sat on the opposite side. "We have more than enough to upgrade the lounge to a casino and resort so let's take it a step further. We can renovate this entire block and up Main Street to the market square. If we upgrade the buildings all along that avenue, it'll draw in more customers. Also, Jasper and Monty have always complained that we've never had a movie theater. I'm sure we can convince them to invest as well."

"We could hold a benefit," Clarke nodded, looking at Jon. "I can host it and we can take donations. Maybe by then Monty will have a couple of machines up and running. I can talk to Raven about helping out…"

"That sounds perfect," Jon nodded, an enthusiastic smile on his face. "But what about the food?" He motioned to the plates on the coffee table before them and they all picked up a fork, trying bites of each dish. After a surprisingly fun conversation about cooking, and food, they'd picked their main six dishes along with three desserts and five appetizers. It was quite fun and before Clarke realized it, the clock on the wall chimed midnight.

"Oh, wow, I should probably get going," Clarke mused, finishing the last sip of her fifth drink. She stood up slowly, her balance feeling a bit off before she pulled out her handheld. "I can probably get Ashur or someone to come get me…"

"No need," Bellamy chimed, offering his hand as she stood up. "I'm heading that way too."

"Are you sure?" Clarke asked, her eyes narrowed.

"I'm actually going to stay longer so it wouldn't be a bad idea, Clarke," Jon nodded, moving to stand next to her. "However, my offer still stands to walk you home."

"It's fine," she smiled, stretching out her hand and placing it on his arm. "Thanks for everything tonight. I cannot wait to come back over the next couple of months to see the progress."

"Just let me know if you have any ideas or anything," Jon nodded, pulling out his handheld. "I'll answer your messages."

Clarke nodded, wrapping her arms tightly around Jon's torso and hugging him. He chuckled, wrapping his arms around her before stepping back and allowing her to pass. As she did, she saw Bellamy extend his hand, offering it to Jon before following Clarke out the door and across the landing. When they'd reached the bottom of the stairs, they could hear the loud music, laughter, and conversation flooding the foyer from the game rooms and lounge. The same guard who had greeted them upon arrival was standing near the ornate wooden door, holding Clarke's black swing jacket. She took it from him gratefully, wishing him a good night before following Bellamy out onto the neon-lit sidewalk.

"So," Bellamy smiled, glancing sideways at her. "Should we go straight home or take a little detour? It's a beautiful night for a walk."

"It is nice," Clarke admitted, looking up at the few stars they could see. "We could walk by Peacelings on the way home. It only takes an extra ten minutes."

"Alright but until we get to the market past Grain Alley, I want you to stay close to me," he warned, looking about. "It's late and these streets aren't even safe during the day."

"You're here," he reasoned, stepping down the few stone stairs and onto the main road. "I don't have anything to worry about."

* * *

 **Thanks so much for reading! Please review!**


	14. Chapter 14: Emotional Temptations

**Love the life you live. Live the life you love. - Bob Marley**

* * *

"I'm glad you have some confidence in my abilities," Bellamy scoffed, staying close by her as they walked. The main avenue was sparsely lit with fading neon and glowing dull blue streetlamps. Bellamy could hear the various voices of people occupying alleys and overhanging buildings and smelled the rancid stench of bile and urine.

"I'm just glad you aren't the moronic brute I assumed you to be," Clarke smirked, pulling her collar closer around her neck. It wasn't cold but a cool breeze had wafted over them and caused a chill to run up Clarke's spine.

"You shouldn't make assumptions about people, Clarke," Bellamy smirked, moving with her up the avenue past the barred and gated windows and doors. "Besides, I think you'll really start to like me soon. You barely know me and I'd like to change that."

"Then tell me about Bellamy Blake," Clarke insisted, glancing up at him. "Tell me something I don't already know."

"Something you don't know?" Bellamy asked, quirking an eyebrow at her. "It would help if I knew what you already know."

"I know quite a lot," Clarke nodded, stepping closer to Bellamy as a couple of people emerged from one of the smaller side alleys. Bellamy immediately put his good arm around her waist, pulling her closer as they walked, silently passing the two people who were arguing about some sort of apartment.

"Don't worry," Bellamy assured, glancing down at her as they kept walking. "I've got a gun and a short-sword on me."

"That you shouldn't use, even with your good arm. Besides, I'm not worried about us," Clarke snapped, walking a little faster. "I don't want to see a repeat of last week so let's just get out of here."

"I see," Bellamy nodded, keeping his arm around her as they walked. "I know you don't approve but in the spirit of honesty, I should probably tell you that the arena and battle are my passion. Even as a child, all I wanted to do was fight in the arena."

"That's something I already knew," she replied, her voice soft and arms crossed over her stomach as they walked. She could feel Bellamy's arm encircling her but he never touched her, gently framing her body in case of an attacker. She didn't feel entirely uncomfortable being this close to him but she was curious about why he was acting so protective. She wondered if she seemed that pathetic and helpless to him.

"You've done quite a bit of research if you know that much," Bellamy smiled, nodding at her.

"It's kind of obvious," Clarke whispered, glancing sideways at him. "I saw it in your eyes during our first encounter in the arena."

"Fighting, to me, is more of an art-form," Bellamy reasoned, a smile on his face as he stared straight ahead, his hand grazing her jacket as they walked. "It's also a great workout."

"I won't ever understand it," Clarke sighed, glancing up at the sky. "Maybe it is just human nature to crave bloodshed."

"Our ancestors fought many wars and battles," Bellamy offered, glancing up at the sky as well, his eyes continuously scanning the road ahead as they approached the hill leading up to the market square. "Centuries of war before and after the existence of the Ark." Bellamy then chuckled, making Clarke look up at him curiously. He noticed her gaze and smiled, looking back up at the sky. "I sometimes wonder," he drawled, pointing at the sky with his index finger. "What it would be like to see the earth from the Ark."

"Me too," Clarke admitted slowly, a sheepish grin on her face. "To see the entire world laid out before your feet must have been a humbling sight."

"Maybe when Raven figures out how to send us back up there, we'll get our chance," Bellamy chuckled, making Clarke genuinely smile for the first time that night.

"She and Finn have always talked about returning to space," Clarke chuckled, looking directly up at him. "Maybe one day we can."

"Octavia would love that," Bellamy nodded, motioning for her to follow him. He escorted her down a side street that ran along the hill and down toward the lake. They could both see the trees swaying in the breeze and the twinkle of the pond as the moonlight danced over it in the distance. Clarke tried to stay beside Bellamy, the small winding alley lined with crates, cages, stalls, and bars making it difficult to maintain pace. Bellamy had pulled ahead of her a few steps and was navigating easily around the puddles and discarded trash and crates, almost disappearing into the darkness ahead of them. Clarke could feel a little uneasy now, unable to fully see Bellamy in front of her. She immediately picked up the pace but stumbled clumsily over a crate, reaching her hand out to catch herself on the wall.

Before she had the opportunity to touch the wall, she felt Bellamy's arm wrap around her, pulling her close so she could regain her balance. She immediately flushed, inhaling the intoxicating scent that was Bellamy. His soft and plush tunic felt warm on her face as she inhaled steadily, pine and an earthy musk throwing all her other senses off. Bellamy didn't move either, standing still so she could regain her balance before stepping back as she pushed him away.

"I don't have the longest legs," Clarke commented, her voice a mixture between mumbling and berating. "And this alley is so dark."

"I've got you, princess," he chuckled, offering her his hand. She could barely see it but before she had time to react, he had laced his fingers with hers. She could feel the warmth emanating from his palm as he held her hand gently in his. It was almost unreal how coarse, but welcoming, his grip was. Clarke didn't bother to pull away from him as he continued to lead her up the street. It was when they emerged, at the edge of the final avenue before the park, that Clarke could see clearly again. The streetlights lining this avenue were always brightest, showcasing Arkadia's natural beauty. Clarke always loved to come here as a girl, riding her favorite horse with her grandfather.

What she didn't expect to see what a guitarist, sitting on one of the park benches just outside the gates. He was strumming whimsically, his tune echoing about them as they approached. Clarke didn't even realize that they were still holding hands until the guitarist spotted them and began playing a slower, more rhythmic tune. Bellamy let go of her hand now and pulled out a silver coin from his pocket, throwing it in the roughly hewn case sitting next to the man. He just nodded, his dark hair falling over his forehead as he strummed on.

"You want to answer a question for me?" Bellamy asked, turning to Clarke as they approached another empty bench underneath an overhanging tree further down the street.

"Only if you answer one of mine," Clarke retorted, her eyes not meeting his.

"That's fair," Bellamy commented, motioning for her to sit on the bench. She did so promptly, almost mechanically, a little uneasy around him still. She had become very aware of her discomfort when he'd let go of her hand and she couldn't help the questions that arose because of it. Bellamy, however, was quite relaxed, leaning back against the bench and allowing the leaves above to shadow his face.

"What's your question?" Clarke finally asked, breaking the momentary silence as the distant tune of the guitar played on.

"Ladies first," Bellamy nodded, watching her as she slowly relaxed into the bench, keeping a modest distance between them.

"What is the real reason you want me to choose you?" Clarke asked, glancing over her shoulder at him. "What's your real endgame?"

"I don't think you'll like my answer," Bellamy admitted, feeling a bit sheepish. "But it is a fair question that deserves a thorough answer."

"It deserves an honest answer," Clarke warned, challenging him. "I don't want lies and excuses."

"Fine, I want you to choose me for three key reasons," Bellamy retorted, his voice commanding but still calm. "Firstly, because I'm in a tight bind, the same as you. My father is intent on ending my bachelor days and ensuring a powerful match too. I have two options; marry an Arkadian princess," he nodded, looking directly at her as she turned to face him fully. "Or an Azgeda princess."

"Azgeda?" Clarke hissed, her eyes narrowed dangerously. "You would give Arkadia to Azgeda?"

"Secondly," he continued, making her eyes go wide at his dismissal of her fury. "Because I am the only one in Arkadia who can give you what you need." He smirked at this, making her brow furrow as she turned away, cheeks tinting red. "I have what you need on the council, in society, and I can give you what you need for your own selfish reasons." He winked at her as she glared back at him, the outrage of such innuendo equally enticing as it was repulsive. "Maybe I didn't understand it before but your plans for a peaceful Arkadia is the kind of thinking that builds empires."

"That wasn't my initial plan," Clarke spat, making him smile. "We shouldn't be fighting anyone for the right to live in this world. By rights, we should be developing the world for the better."

"And finally," Bellamy sighed, moving a little closer, making her look up at him. "Because you are the most confusing, unpredictable, and stunning person I have ever met. I never know what to expect from you and yet, every time you speak, every time you look at me, I'm surprised. You have matched and bested me in almost every way but instead of being envious and hating you, I want to marry you."

"How can I believe a word you've said?" Clarke asked, eyes wide as she moved away from him again, sitting on the edge of the bench. The trees rustled above them in the breeze and the guitar had faded with it. She only glared back at him, her shoulders squared and her jaw set. She couldn't really see his face in the shadow of the tree but somehow, she knew, he was smiling.

"Why would I make any of that up?" Bellamy asked, moving to the edge of the bench as well, his good hand gripping the lip of the seat. "Why would I lie when I've made it clear that I'm interested in a match?"

"To confuse me," Clarke reasoned. "To humiliate me, to manipulate me…"

"Possible," Bellamy nodded, glancing over at her. "But I told you that you wouldn't like my answer."

"Why can I never figure out what you're truly thinking?" Clarke almost whined, making Bellamy perk up, looking entirely entranced. "Why are you the only one I can't figure out? Why? It's like a puzzle that never seems to end; every time I think I've figured it out, it slips away!" She was waving her hands, clenching her fist, and unhinging in front of Bellamy. She wasn't completely uncontrollable but he could see the frustration and helplessness that slowly started to engulf her.

"You think I don't feel the same way?" Bellamy asked, trying to distract her from completely imploding. "I never know what you're thinking, what you'll do, what you'll say… it's all new to me. I am constantly trying to figure out how to understand you, how to get you to like me, even just a little bit and for some reason, I keep running into a brick wall."

"But your entire family isn't depending on you to make a match to produce the only remaining Griffin heir in the entire world," Clarke snapped, looking back up at him incredulously. "You're not being forced to set aside your heart to protect your family. You couldn't possibly understand what it is like to be me."

"You're right," Bellamy assured, not looking away from her. "Sixteen is too young an age to make decisions concerning the heart, let alone the kinds of decisions you'll have to make as the last of your family."

"Don't patronize me," Clarke said, her voice a mixture of pleading and irritation. "You're not that much older than me."

"I'm not patronizing you" he chuckled, making her grimace slightly. "I'm sincerely sympathizing with you. It's entirely unfair."

"I can't tell if your joking or sincere anymore," Clarke groaned, shaking her head. "This is just a horrible mess. Look at us, plotting and scheming and clamoring to climb the ladder that our fathers built. Sometimes, I just want to push him off his high horse for getting me into all this chaos." Her voice had grown harsher and Bellamy could see the fury in her eyes, the way her hands balled into a fist.

"You really hate him for all of this, don't you?"

"I love him but it's his fault I have to do all this," she fumed, her voice becoming even more heated as she spoke. "He's the one who insists that I choose a suitor before I become involved with the embassy. I don't suppose you know how hard it is to make a difference when you have absolutely no influence?"

"Not really," Bellamy remarked, his voice softer than he'd intended. Clarke noticed, eying him curiously before he continued. "My father brought me into his dealings three years ago, and every step I take into that world pulls me further from this one. Having that kind of power changes people; maybe he's just looking out for you?"

"If that were the case he wouldn't keep me in the dark," she replied, her face a little flushed. "Besides, he obviously doesn't want me interfering with whatever plans he's pulled together. He's probably just keeping me distracted until he can complete them. I sometimes wonder about him and the burden he carries; he has to be tired."

"If I were him, that's what I would do," Bellamy offered, a wicked grin on his face. "If my daughter was half as fiery, stubborn, and indignant as you, I'd lock her away."

"He's never once had reason to doubt me," Clarke confessed, eyeing him closely. "And I can't imagine your kids being anything less than fiery, stubborn, and indignant…"

"As long as they loved me," Bellamy chuckled, looking up at the sky. "Four boys and three girls…" He then glanced back at Clarke, catching her eye as he spoke. "How many kids do you want?"

She could feel the blush rising in her cheeks, looking away from him as she bit her lip and stared back over the gardens. It wasn't an odd question but she'd never considered a real number. She'd never had a brother or a sister and couldn't imagine having only one child but, with the way her family's lineage had been producing, she'd be lucky if she had a child at all. She could hear his soft breathing next to her and could feel his eyes on her face as she sat there, trying to wrap her mind around a logical number.

"My family hasn't produced many heirs in the past three generations," Clarke said, not looking back at him. "I'd be lucky to have one, let alone six or seven."

"So, you want a big family?" he asked and she could feel his curiosity.

"Maybe one day," she whispered, making him pause. "Or maybe not at all. I can't really speak for my uterus."

"Well, I think you'd be a great mom," Bellamy commented, making Clarke look directly into his eyes, not realizing that he was sitting closer than before. She could see the way he looked over her face, taking in every feature before analyzing the rest of her. It made her feel warm and that familiar feeling from earlier that night had returned. It was a mixture of excitement, expectation, and yearning that made her blush when he didn't look away. She was hoping he couldn't see these feelings she was fighting with but she doubted she could escape him. He was particularly stubborn and attentive when it came to something like this.

"I would honestly have no clue what to do," she replied, her eyes still locked with his, unable to look away now. She was taking in every line, every wrinkle, and every dimple of his face, memorizing the tiniest of freckles and gold flakes that powdered his black eyes. She refused to look away though, unwilling to concede to embarrassment.

"You're a doctor," he whispered, making her glance down at his lips. Her eyes lingered there a bit longer than she intended and when she looked back up into his eyes, she could see that they'd deepened, the same yearning she was feeling reflected back at her. "You just have that instinct," he pressed on, his breath hitching when she bit her bottom lip again. Her chest rose and fell rhythmically as she mulled over his words, the irresistible way she unconsciously licked her lips nearly sending Bellamy over the edge.

"Probably," was all she replied, completely entranced by the softness in his eyes and the way he smirked down at her. It was as if he could read her mind and as they gravitated together, she could feel the heat from his body yet again engulfing her. It wasn't unpleasant, his knees intertwined with hers as he finally faced her full on. He gently ran the back of his hand along her cheek and before she could stop herself, she let out a surprised breath, making him smile even wider.

"Cat got your tongue?" he asked, watching her cheeks flush bright red.

"You're such an ass-" she breathed, not even trying to sound offended. She didn't really care anymore, staring up at the curly haired man in front of her. Had he always had such a cute dimple in his chin? And were his eyes always so entrancing? Clarke couldn't help herself and before she'd realized it, he'd wrapped his arm around her waist and brought her close. His lips were pressed to the hollow of her neck and his breath was hot against her skin as she spoke.

"You're absolutely intoxicating," he admitted, his lips grazing the soft crevice between her neck and collar. "You smell like honey too." Before she could respond his tongue darted out and gently flicked against her neck, making her see stars for the briefest of moments. She couldn't control her actions at this point, letting out a soft gasp and a long groan as he kissed her neck again. "You taste like honey too," he mumbled, his lips sending chills along her spine and into her stomach, making it almost float. She'd never felt this before and the sensations made her head swim; she couldn't bring herself to protest as the hand around her hips gently squeezed and then trailed upward, making goosebumps rise on all over. She almost jumped when she felt his fingertips grazing the curve of her stomach, over her jacket to trace their way up toward her torso. She instinctively grasped at his shirt when she heard the soft breathy chuckle on her neck.

"You seem to be enjoying this," he whispered in her ear, the way he said it making her close her eyes as he kissed her jaw, just below her earlobe. His thumb was slowly tracing circles on her upper arm as he ran the fingertips over the fabric of her coat to her collar. He gently grazed the soft skin underneath and could see her visibly shiver; the way she reacted to his every touch was hypnotizing. Before he could control himself, he'd ran his fingertips all the way up, back over her shoulder, and weaved them into her curly blonde hair. Her eyes popped open at this but that didn't stop him; he didn't really have time to think. He just knew that he wanted to feel those soft pink lips, that had been gasping and mewling helplessly, on his.

Clarke felt his lips crash into hers, the intensity and desperate need overwhelming her, making her clutch at his shirt roughly. He held onto her hair with his uninjured hand tightly, pulling his other arm through the sling to wrap gingerly around her waist. She was reveling in how warm and soft the kiss was, pushing her hand gently up his neck, grasping his curls roughly. He must have enjoyed that because his fingers floated down to the back of her neck, deepening the kiss as he flicked his tongue over her bottom lip. She didn't hesitate, didn't allow him to stop as she mirrored his ferocity, flicking her own tongue over his lips to tease and taste him. To her surprise, and delight, their tongues met and she let out a soft moan, causing him to smirk against her lips. She was mildly amused by the way his lips felt against hers and cautiously nibbled on his lower one, causing him to growl into her mouth as he pressed further.

He felt like he was on fire, unable to fully engulf himself within her warmth because of his damn shoulder, eagerly pulling her closer. His other hand held her head as she gently, but desperately, grasped his hair. He loved that, the way she pulled on it, running her other hand up over his chest and gently squeezing the collar of his shirt. She was ravenous and he didn't mind one bit, the taste of her lips and the soft mischievousness of her tongue sending chills down his spine. He wanted to throw this sling off completely, pull her onto his lap, and never let this kiss end, hungry to see what she'd do once he had her so close. He could feel the heated rise and fall of her chest as he languidly rolled his tongue against hers, trailing down her jaw and over her neck eliciting soft gasps and sudden exhales. It was when his hand had found the zipper of her jacket that he froze, mesmerized by the gentle way her fingers threaded through his curls and caressed his enflamed skin. Before he could capture her mouth again she'd pulled away, her face crimson red and breathing fast. She looked flushed and a little embarrassed but when he pulled away she met his eyes and Bellamy almost felt his heart stop.

"S-sorry," was all she managed to say, her lips still swollen from his eager ministrations. Her eyes, which had remained on his, were swimming with emotion and a desperate need to make sense of what just happened. He couldn't help but smile at this, his hand still gently resting on the back of her neck as he took in the sight in front of him. He'd never seen anything more tempting, or beautiful, and immediately brought his injured hand up to push her hair back from her eyes. She just watched him silently, observing his every move, the emotion in her eyes making Bellamy wonder what she was thinking about.

"You don't need to apologize," he replied, still leaning close to her, his thumb gently caressing the junction between her ear and neck. "It was quite good, actually."

"I shouldn't have done that," she replied, looking down at her hands which had dropped from his hair and neck to her lap.

"Why?" Bellamy asked, a soft smile on his face as he looked at her blushing cheeks. "I thought it was going really well."

She glanced up at him now, her eyes a mixture of wonder, irritation, and lust. "You know why," she whispered, her voice soft but steady as she pushed away the hand that was on her face. "I don't just throw myself at anyone."

"So, I'm just anyone now?" Bellamy asked, a smirk spreading over his face as his fingertips gently released her neck. He trailed his hand down her back, resting his arm around her waist as his hand gently squeezed her hip, making her bite her bottom lip to quell whatever noise she was about to make. It was then that her eyes looked away from him, back over the street in front of them. regret pooling where lust had once been. "And here I thought I was special."

"Don't tease me," she replied, her voice becoming icier as she stared out over the clean and neatly ordered apartments overlooking the park. "I don't like being played with."

"I'm not playing," Bellamy returned, making her look at him again with a doubtful stare. "You don't have to believe me but for once, I'm telling you the truth. I'm not playing games or teasing you. I'm seriously interested; maybe that isn't what you need to hear right now but I might as well be blunt."

"You infuriate me," Clarke offered up, her voice shaky. "How can I believe anything you say when it comes to this? You'd do anything to secure a marriage, even lie about your own feelings."

"This was no lie," he sighed, sliding his hand around to the small of her back, feeling the shiver that ran up her spine. She stared up at him defiantly, his other hand coming up to hold her chin as she looked into his eyes. "I genuinely have feelings for you. I don't know how it happened and I can't explain it but the thought of you with anyone else sets me on fire. The idea of you loving someone else, smiling at someone else, even considering someone else drives me insane."

"That's jealousy," Clarke said, not looking away from him once. "That is obsession and pride talking; you just can't stand the idea of losing. After all, you're a fighter and a warrior; victory is all you want." Her voice was cold, edgy as she spoke and Bellamy felt a little twinge of guilt building inside his chest. How could she possibly know anything about him? He'd never given her a serious chance.

"I want a lot of things," Bellamy offered up, another smile spreading over his face. "I want my family to be safe, our people to prosper, and our lives to become less complicated. I want a nice cozy house, a family of my own, and friends to share my happiness with. I want to fight in the arena and war, to defend all the people that I care for. I need to feel passion and excitement but I also want a woman by my side who is equal to the task. I want someone fearless, stubborn, ferocious, and loving to call my partner without any regret or hesitation."

Clarke was staring at him thoughtfully, her eyes narrowing as his palm spread out gently over her lower back making goosebumps rise again. She didn't want to admit that she loved the feel of his hands on her, his hot breath in her ear, and the soft caress of his smirk. It was infuriating, feeling this bubbling and turning feeling in her stomach, the heated flush of her skin making her feel light headed, somewhat dizzy. She couldn't just sit there, wrapped in his arms, allowing him to say and do as he pleased. This wasn't like her at all but the harder she fought it, the stronger the urges became. She didn't want to care about how he felt, didn't want to even consider the consequences of her weakness. She had once again let her desires get the best of her but this time it was with someone she knew she couldn't trust.

"I just can't trust you," she finally whispered, placing one of her hands on his good shoulder now. She leaned toward him slightly so that he could only look into her eyes as she spoke, desperately trying to make him understand. "No matter how many promises, kind words, or gentle caresses you give, I could never believe that you truly cared. I already know you'd never consider my family's needs over your own; don't you understand? I am the last remaining heiress, the princess, and my family legacy might die with me if I make the wrong choice."

Bellamy was caught by her eyes, the desperate way they searched his making the arm around her waist tighten. Clarke's strong resolve, the intensity of her spirit, was pouring out to him and Bellamy wanted to feel it all. He wanted to see things from her side, understand how she was feeling but the more she spoke, the heavier the disappointment was. She was absolutely right about their situation; no matter how much they may have felt for one another, there would never be trust. He couldn't trust her to become part of his family, to consider his name as her own, any more than she could trust him to give one of his children the Griffin name. The Blake family had finally come to a point where eliminating their hated rival could actually happen; to bring justice to so many family members lost and forgotten. He had the tools he needed but Bellamy had decided to betray seven generations of Blake's by falling in love.

"Clarke," he whispered, their eyes still locked together as he spoke. "I don't know what to do. I really don't; for the first time in my life I'm at a loss for any sort of solution or plan. This situation is…" he wasn't sure how to put it, looking down into her questioning eyes. "Complicated."

"That's why I shouldn't have let it happen," Clarke replied, her voice barely a whisper as she finally looked away from him, dropping her hand from his shoulder. It physically pained Bellamy to see the frustration and disappointment she felt, to watch her silently stare at his chest without any words or reactions, turning over her thoughts in her head with painful thoroughness.

"It isn't your fault, Clarke," he finally breathed, making her stiffen as his hand gently came around from her back to grasp her arm. "You can't blame yourself for something like this, especially when I'm the one who keeps pressuring you…" Bellamy sincerely felt guilty, watching the young woman in front of him struggle so hard to stay above water.

"I should have known better," she said, her voice sharp. "I should have been able to control myself."

"You're a teenage girl who's never been with a guy before," Bellamy chuckled, catching her eye again. "How can you possibly blame yourself?"

"I know that," she replied, her eyes narrowed in irritation as she stared at his chest. "I mean, I blame myself for all of it; I never should have considered you in the first place. It would have saved us both a lot of hassle and time."

"Do you honestly think that's how it works?" Bellamy asked, his voice full of amusement. "That you can just ignore someone and the feelings will go away? You knew from the beginning you'd need my help to realize a peaceful future for Arkadia; why beat yourself up? Not everything fits in a neat little box, princess."

"Allowing myself to consider you was a stupid move, one I never should have let happen," Clarke replied, her voice cool and calculating, her eyes never meeting his. "I could have easily made the safe choice and been content with the security it provides. I could have walked away, refusing to let it get to me because before all of this started, I was perfectly content to avoid you."

"But you're glad you didn't, right?" Bellamy asked, no hint of sarcasm or levity in his voice. He was analyzing her every reaction and when she looked up at him, her eyes said it all; she knew as well as he did that there was no going back to the way things were.

"My options were limited," Clarke confessed, her voice betraying the lie. "I had to befriend you or destroy you and I let optimism make the call."

"You let your heart make the call," Bellamy insisted, her eyes going wide. "You knew from the moment we met there was something there; if you didn't, you wouldn't be here now, talking to me."

"Why couldn't we be anyone else?" Clarke asked, catching him off guard at the sudden question. She was still sitting close to him, her hands in her lap as his uninjured hand slid down her arm and over her side. He wasn't sure how to answer her and she saw the thoughts turning behind those dark eyes of his.

"Oh, be some other name!" Bellamy smiled suddenly, making her eyes go wider. "What's in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name, would smell as sweet." He watched her closely, a soft smile coming back to her lips.

"So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called, retain that dear perfection which he owes without that title…" she responded, bringing another smile to his face.

"Shakespeare fan as well," he commented, his hand going back up her arm to her neck. It made Clarke quiver a little, the way his smile danced over his face and his eyes roamed over hers. He let out a soft sigh now, pressing his forehead to hers and closing his eyes as Clarke gently clutched his shoulder again. She took in the soft scent that was Bellamy, feeling his gentle breaths against her lips as they stay like that, trapped in their own world. There were no other sounds, no distractions of any kind; just Bellamy's deep breathing and the warmth of his prescience. It was as if they were the only two people left, both enjoying the relaxing warmth the other provided without any thought of resurfacing. Clarke was the first to come back to reality though, pulling away from him and letting her hand fall back to her lap.

"So, what is this, exactly?" she asked, her voice full of confusion. She needed to know where they stood now. After all that had happened between them just now, she needed to know what this meant, how to keep moving forward. That was all she had at this point; it seemed that no matter where she turned, one problem replaced another and she felt absolutely overwhelmed by this last not-so-unpleasant one. She had clearly stepped over a line she hadn't crossed with anyone else.

She knew what she and Jon were; business partners and friends. It could grow into more but Jon had made it clear that he just wasn't up to the task. After everything that had happened that night, she knew that she could no longer consider Jon as a suitor. What frightened her was that she felt this way about someone who she could genuinely grow to love and trust. She'd felt something for him and didn't want to ignore it because he was completely genuine with her, caring and sincere. Jon could be everything Bellamy wasn't. She also knew what she and Landell were. She'd never have to doubt his trust or loyalty because that is what they'd started out with. It wasn't even an issue for her and he knew that as well. They were both considering marriage and Clarke couldn't have chosen a better man; no one more protective or attentive. He was ideal for Clarke and she felt that with him, she could have the life she'd always wanted. She could have children named Griffin, a home in both the country and city, and a husband who would never betray her trust or love. Even in the short amount of time she'd known Landell, she could see the genuine goodness that radiated from him.

It was only when she saw that Bellamy wasn't looking at her that she felt that warm sensation start to pool inside her stomach. Did she want him to be jealous? Did she hope that he'd fight for her? When Bellamy remained silent, Clarke pressed on, her impatience and frustration coming to the surface. "Well? What is this? I don't understand what this means and I don't know where to go from here. Are we friends? Business partners? Rivals? Where do we draw the line?" She could see the shock and disappointment in his reaction but she chose to ignore it, watching him closely.

"I was telling you the truth," Bellamy replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "I have feelings for you."

"I can't go there with you," she insisted, her voice a heated whisper. "I won't. I'll be your friend, your partner, and your rival but I won't be your plaything to consider only when it suits you."

"I'd never treat you that way," Bellamy said, his eyes meeting hers again, his hand on her arm gripping gently. "Never," he reiterated, raising his other hand to touch her cheek with his fingertips. "I don't know how to make you believe me but if I have to, I'll spend the rest of my life trying."

"Don't be an idiot," she insisted, making him smirk. "You don't have the rest of your life and you know it. I clearly overstepped here and I don't want to make it any more complicated than it already is."

"It is entirely too late for that," Bellamy smiled, pulling her flush against him again. "This, right here, is complicated but at least it is true. You asked me a question, I gave you an honest answer. A long and passionate answer that, if I'm not mistaken, you enjoyed."

"You had a question," Clarke said tartly, pulling completely away from him and composing herself. "What was it?"

"That's right," Bellamy pondered, watching her face closely. It wasn't that he'd forgotten, he was just hesitant to ask.

"Well?" Clarke asked, glancing over at him as she sat stiffly on the bench now.

"I'm not sure I want to ask you now," Bellamy admitted, making her turn toward him quizzically. He noted the irritation and slight discomfort in her body language and sighed, fixing his arm back in his sling before leaning back onto the bench again.

"What is it?"

"Do you think your father would ever try to assassinate me or my father?" Bellamy asked, the bluntness of his question making Clarke cringe visibly.

"No," she answered, her disbelieving gaze making him chuckled.

"I didn't think so either," Bellamy admitted, nodding his head. "Monty insists it was at your father's orders but I never really pictured him to be a brash or violent man."

"I don't know why Monty hates us so much," Clarke spat, glancing back up the street. "I've never done anything to him."

"No, not you," Bellamy sighed, his voice soft but sharp. "Our great-grandparents and grandparents were the offenders."

"I still don't understand what that has to do with the future, with me and my family," Clarke ground out, looking back at him. "There isn't even a full accounting of the war so no one knows what really started it."

"This isn't the reason I asked you about your father," Bellamy nodded. "My father has uncovered nothing about our attackers. Not even the patrols we sent brought back any evidence. The only thing we know is that they had to of had some sort of technology to cut down those trees and block our way in that short span of time."

"So, you automatically assume it is us?" Clarke asked, her voice even.

"No, I'm trying to get you to lend me some insight," Bellamy pointed, poking her arm gently. "It's no small matter that we were attacked so close to the city."

"The fact that you were attacked at all is a bigger problem than you and I could solve alone," Clarke offered, nodding her head at him as she turned to look back up the dark and empty street. "We need to pool our resources."

"With who, though?"

"Everyone," Clarke nodded. "I can trust that Wells didn't sanction that attack and neither did my father or Thelonious."

"And I can trust that Monty, Jasper, Jon, and Harper are innocent," Bellamy reasoned, looking down at her. "That just leaves the Pike family and the few neutral families."

"You know definitively that they are all loyal?" Clarke asked, an eyebrow raised in disbelief. "Their parents, their relations, everyone?"

"No, but how do you know Thelonious and Wells aren't behind it?" Bellamy retorted, his eyes narrowing at her. "Everyone on the council is convinced it was Azgeda which, for someone aware of my father's plans, is a lucky coincidence. It only ruins his plans to form an alliance with Azgeda like he's been pushing."

"Don't tell me that," Clarke shot back. "I didn't know about any of this until tonight. It could literally be anyone else but me."

"So, you're asking me to trust you?" Bellamy quipped, giving her a knowing look. She smirked before shaking her head at him, clearly enjoying the irony.

"I will question my father," Clarke offered, looking up at him. "Find out what he knows. He's never lied to me but that doesn't mean he's told me everything."

"That would be helpful," Bellamy smiled, pretending not to notice the way Clarke's lips twitched as he did.

"I'm horrified that whoever is attempting assassination has other targets on their list," Clarke surmised, wrapping her arms around herself.

"I think you're pretty safe, princess," Bellamy chuckled, making her glance at him sheepishly.

"Not me you idiot," Clarke groaned, nudging him gently. "Octavia."

Bellamy paused at this, watching the blush on her cheeks and the way her mind was racing behind her eyes. She seemed sincerely worried and for a moment, Bellamy felt the insatiable urge to be close to her. He'd never met anyone who was so selfless, so concerned with the welfare of not only a stranger but an enemy. It was amazing and he could see the kindness radiating from her electric blue eyes like the clear waters of the ocean. However, Clarke noticed his observant but astonished gaze and smiled, making the heat in his stomach and chest burn even hotter.

"She's fine," Bellamy replied, his voice distant, almost trance-like. "We're taking every precaution."

"T-that's good," Clarke replied, staggered by the look on his face and the distance in his voice.

"S-sorry," Bellamy chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck with his good hand. "I was just confounded by your concern."

"I can't help it," Clarke admitted, looking a bit embarrassed. "I've never had a sibling and she's entirely innocent…"

"The love you have for her is touching," Bellamy admitted, moving so he was sitting right next to her, barely any space between them as he looked down at her. "Would you protect her?"

"You know I would," Clarke replied, her eyes wide. "I don't have anything against your sister…"

"Then, as a friend, can you make me a promise?" Bellamy asked, looking down at her carefully. Clarke only nodded, enamored by the intensity of his stare. "If things don't work out, can I trust you to protect her from my father's mistakes? From mine?"

"Like she was my own sister," Clarke mused, her voice tentative and quizzical. "Protect her from what, exactly?"

"I told you," Bellamy sighed, pushing himself from the bench and stepping away from her. "My father is committed to a strong match. If it isn't you, it will be Azgeda. I wasn't supposed to tell anyone that but it's only fair that you understand my position."

"And I told you, I cannot trust your motives," Clarke sighed, standing next to him. "And I cannot trust Azgeda either. What kind of match do you think you'll have with Azgeda? Do you think the fellow council members will approve of the Blake heir also being Azgeda royalty?"

"It's a smart move, on our end," Bellamy reasoned, his voice remorseful. "Azgeda as an ally would assure that my family could once, and for all, crush their rivals and control every aspect of Arkadia. It's everything my father has worked for and I cannot let it die with me. It's the foundations of a new dynasty."

"How could I ever trust you with that kind of power?" Clarke asked, her eyes wide, her arms crossed over her chest.

"But I trust you," Bellamy nodded, turning to face her fully. "I trust you with all my plans, with all my worries, and with all of my weaknesses, including my sister." Clarke was about to retort but Bellamy had wrapped an arm around her hips, pulling her flush against his chest as he slid his other arm out of the sling. He wrapped it gingerly around her and she froze, not wanting to hurt his shoulder.

"W-what are-?"

"I wanted to hold you, just this once," Bellamy sighed, inhaling deeply as he buried his nose in her blonde ringlets. "I planned on seeing you tonight and convincing you to be mine using every desperate move I could think of but once again, you've surprised me. I knew you could never truly trust me and I didn't care at all until tonight. It seems, without me even realizing it, I was falling for you." He then chuckled and she could feel the soft breath as it tousled her hair.

"This whole time, I was supposed to be making you fall for me," Bellamy laughed, holding her close. "I never expected it to be the other way around."

"Don't say things like that," Clarke warned, her body stiff as he embraced her. She was pressed against his chest and could hear his steady breathing along with his quickened heartbeat. "It isn't a joke to me."

"It isn't a joke," Bellamy sighed, burying his face in her hair entirely. He was baffled by this sensation, this overwhelming weight in his heart as he held her. He wanted to pull her in closer, to be completely enveloped in the warmth that seemed to radiate from her. However, Clarke had placed a hand on his chest and leaned back, looking at him skeptically.

"You don't love me Bellamy," Clarke sighed, placing a hand on his cheek. "You can't love me, no matter how hard you try to convince yourself."

Bellamy only chuckled, bringing his good hand up to push a lock of hair over her ear. "I don't know what I have to do to convince you, Clarke," Bellamy replied, this time moving his hand to trap her palm against his chest. "Don't you feel that? Don't you see it? Who cares about old grudges and social convention when there's love between us?"

"I never said- "

"You didn't have to," Bellamy grinned, his eyes searching hers curiously. "There is something between us, something more than friendship and I won't let you walk away from it so easily."

"You're delusional," Clarke argued, pulling her hand away from his chest. "And I need to get home, as do you. You should have been resting in the first place."

"You'll see," Bellamy reasoned, stepping aside for her to lead the way. He put his arm back in the sling slowly before speaking. "I've always thought we shared many similarities and that was what made you dislike me. You saw my ambition and recognized it in yourself as well but now I know for a fact that it wasn't just that."

"Even if I did love you," Clarke retorted, stalking off down the street, Bellamy close behind. "Your presenting me with an ultimatum! If I don't choose you, your family will forever be aligned with Azgeda, our bitter enemy. If I do choose you, my family will be at the mercy and whim of their bitter rivals! Either way, I cannot win and it is you and your family that has forced me into this corner."

"And you're so confident that I'll mistreat you, that I'll use our children against you and ruin your family?" Bellamy asked, a little louder than he intended.

"Why wouldn't you?" Clarke spat, still sauntering ahead of him up the brightly lit avenue alongside the park. "Why would you and your family take that golden opportunity? I would if I were you!"

"Would you?" Bellamy asked, keeping pace with her now. "You just said you'd protect Octavia yet you're suddenly willing to sell out my entire family. Could you really hurt the family of the man you loved?"

"I told you," Clarke grated, glancing up at him. "I don't love you."

"But you could," Bellamy smiled, crossing the street with a grin. Clarke quickly pursued him, her anger beginning to surface again. "You could grow to love me since, as I've said already, I love you."

"I'm not ready to make that decision," Clarke argued, catching up to him.

"But what other decisions do you have?" Bellamy asked. "Landell is nice and that would protect you from my match with Azgeda but you don't love him. Jon has refused you which leaves Wells. Tell me, do you love Wells instead?"

"I told you not to tease me," she ground out, her voice low and dangerous. He only smiled, glancing back at her as they walked up to the main intersection, leading around Embassy square and into Clarke's neighborhood. "And for someone claiming to love me, you have an odd way of showing it."

"I already told you," Bellamy replied, stopping in front of her which almost made her run into him. "I do love you and I am trying to help you." He then turned around, looking down at her sternly. "Get to know me, come to my home sometime for a meal, go to the orchestra with me or maybe I could convince you to watch an arena match with me. Why can't we try and see where it goes?"

"How could I trust anything you say?" she asked, her tone a mixture of anger and frustration. "How do I know that you're not telling me exactly what I want to hear? How can I trust that you could ever truly have feelings for me when, even now, you force me into a corner and threaten everything that I hold dear?!"

"Because I'm trapped too!" Bellamy growled, stepping closer. "Do you think I want to marry some Azgeda princess? Do you think I want to betray my friends and my people to satisfy my father's lust for more power?"

"It seems like something you'd enjoy," Clarke spat, her eyes narrowed. "A royal title and the military to back you up."

"You really piss me off," Bellamy seethed, turning from her again and walking up the street behind the embassy. "You push me away and defy all reason because, according to your rationale, I can't be trusted. Yet, here you are trying to enforce the same prejudice and distrust that you claim to be so vehemently against."

"Don't lecture me on trust," Clarke ordered, stalking after him. "It wasn't me who tried to force their rival into a corner! It wasn't me who made plans and ultimatums that were only beneficial to himself! It wasn't me who toyed with people's emotions to benefit his family!"

"And it wasn't me who forced you to find a suitor in the first place," Bellamy replied, stopping at the road Clarke lived on. They could both see the large villa on the hill and Clarke could visibly see Bellamy's exhaustion.

"You're right," Clarke replied, turning toward her home. "This is my choice to make and neither you, nor my father, can persuade me otherwise." She then offered her hand, stiffly holding it out for him to take. He looked at it for a moment before staring up at her, his eyebrow raised in disbelief.

"I think we've passed the shaking hands stage," Bellamy drawled, stepping forward quickly and wrapping his good arm around her. She didn't resist, didn't stop his advance as he placed a gentle but lingering kiss on her forehead. "Until we meet again…" he whispered, letting go of her more quickly than Clarke wanted. She almost cringed when he let go of her and turned away, sauntering down the street toward his own home without so much as a glance back at her.

She didn't understand this feeling that came over her, this heavy weight in her chest and stomach that slowly turned. Clarke wasn't sure if it was the events of the night, her own tiredness, or Bellamy's words but in that moment, she felt completely helpless and alone.

* * *

 **Steamy chapter. Feelings revealed. Fun fun. Hope you enjoyed it! Thanks so much. Please review.**


	15. Chapter 15: Hosting Royalty

**It's good to be The King. - Mel Brooks**

* * *

Clarke was sitting at her desk mulling over the list she'd saved on her computer. She'd went to work that afternoon entirely ready to focus but it proved harder than imagined. The E.R. was slow and so was the intensive care unit so she ended up wandering around, checking on patients aimlessly until the head nurse mentioned that she could leave. Clarke was almost embarrassed at how quickly she jumped on the offer, walking home quickly and locking herself in her room.

She'd spent the remainder of that afternoon fully engrossed in a different sort of work. She had compiled a list of everyone that could be targeting the Blake's. Her father, unfortunately, was at the top of the list and she had to go through everyone that worked under him. Dozens of names with more connections than she cared to work out; it had taken her an hour alone to compose just the names and titles on the list. Once she'd compiled the list she had a hard time organizing it, given that everyone was involved with everyone. Inter-marriages, business deals, and gang affiliations were wrapped about one another, and those were just the ones Clarke knew of for sure. After keeping herself occupied for another two hours, organizing and detailing every name, she finally had the list narrowed down.

Her father was the leader of their faction and therefore, almost everyone in it worked under him in some way. It was a lengthy list, filled with entitled relations and old grudges all seeming to lead back well over twenty years. The Jaha and Pike families were immediately answerable to her father but only in a diplomatic setting. They could take his advice whenever they pleased but they didn't legally, or officially, have to follow his orders outside the council. Clarke, who'd questioned Percival and Ban herself that morning, found out that neither of their gangs had any orders from higher up to target Bellamy. They'd never received an order, in all their years of serving, to directly target a Blake family member. This, while relieving, made Clarke wonder who else it could be. It was true that it could have been hired mercenaries from any family so Clarke couldn't rule them out; it wasn't easy uncovering secret dealings between her father's business partners. So, after delving deeper and accessing her father's own personal files that he stored on their home network, she found a huge connection between suspects. The Jaha and Keller Engineering Corps had bid on the contract for the expansion of the western wall. It seems that the council bought out the public land to expand the wall for more housing and more space for pipes to be laid for the new neighborhood. This wasn't suspicious but what was suspicious is that the contract went up for auction almost three months ago. In that time, not one shipment or order has been delivered or purchased. It was as if the project had been completely forgotten. This was on top of the fact that the Greens were buying up lumber from anyone who would sell it. It was well known that all the good forest land in the east and north was owned by the Jaha, Keller, and Blake families. However, no official transactions have occurred between the four considering the amount of resources that could be exchanged in such an agreement. It seemed more than odd considering the expansion of the wall is one of the most prestigious projects anyone could take on. Clarke wondered why they hadn't been officially approved yet and what is taking them so long to arrange transactions for the supplies. Everyone wanted in on this project but no one was doing a thing.

Clarke wondered about this and considered the possibility of it being interconnected with the Blake attack. The Blake's did have quite a few mines in the east and north as well as factories for gun production and expansive woodlands. The timber, iron ore, and other raw materials were essential for their trade and power. Conversely, the Jaha family owned more woodland than the other families combined as well as several lucrative mining and quarrying operations. The Keller and Chandler families all had considerable farm land in the south and east as well as forges to equal that of the Murphy family; this made the Jaha family exceptionally powerful. It could have been entirely possible that the Blake family was somehow holding up the deal, seeing no profit for themselves. The contract had to be granted by vote of the council and the Blake family, as well as the Green's, could be holding up the deal to try and benefit their families. This, in some ways, could spur a vendetta against both the Green and Blake families that the Jaha and Keller families would take seriously.

This was all just a guess but it seemed to be the most likely reason as to why Bellamy Blake was attacked. She knew it wasn't a hit orchestrated by the gangs and it wasn't anyone in his own faction, leaving out the Green and Murphy family as well as the McIntyre and several of the lesser names. The only logical reason this could be happening was the wall. It was the biggest engineering project Arkadia has taken on in almost twenty years and would be a massive public relations boost as well as a political one. Unfortunately, this immediately put Thelonious, and Wells, in a place Clarke had never imagined. She didn't even consider Wells as the culprit of this attack; her best friend would never do something so dishonorable or dangerous. He wouldn't set this precedent because it not only put him in danger but her as well. However, Thelonious was a simple man; if he saw a problem, like any good engineer, he'd fix it. He wasn't a bad person, in fact he was quite sociable and likable which made Clarke a little more suspicious. Charismatic leaders like Wells' father didn't become powerful by playing fair and Clarke wasn't naïve enough to rule him out. She also didn't want to rule her father out as the puppet master behind the curtain.

This all just lead her back to square one and she had no idea what to make of it. She stepped away from the desk now, sighing in irritation before turning to her soft cushioned bench. She sprawled out on it, laying down and staring thoughtfully at the ceiling. All day, since being in Bellamy's arms last night, she'd been thinking about nothing but him. His family's welfare, his injury, his position, his smile, his eyes… she couldn't escape him no matter how hard she tried to focus on something else. She needed to reevaluate, to see things as a third party and so far, she'd failed miserably. She knew his game, she understood the rules, and still she felt sincerity in his voice last night. He'd told her that he had genuine feelings and although she couldn't trust him, she saw the authenticity in his face, the gentle curiosity in his touch. She also saw the ambition, the drive, and the lust she'd inspired in him, making her blush at the thought of those dark eyes staring into her. She'd barely escaped his touch, his gaze, and knew she'd set him on a path that she herself never intended to walk. How could she feel this way for someone so different than her, her family's biggest threat? She felt ashamed, humiliated, and undeniably obsessed with the way his lips felt on hers. It was more than frustrating and before she had time to really think over her emotions, there came a knock at her door.

"Enter!" she said, sitting up on the bench. To her amazement, her father peaked his head through the door, a smile on his face.

"Am I intruding?" he asked, his voice soft but curious.

"Not at all," she smiled, motioning for him to come in. Clarke glanced at the digital clock on her computer screen and noted that it wasn't even four o'clock, a bit early for her father to be home. "How was your day?"

He shut the door behind him and walked over the bench, taking a seat next to her. He still had a soft smile on his face and his eyes were twinkling with love, not unusual to Clarke. He'd always looked at her with such love and devotion and she trusted her father with everything. How could she not? He'd never given her reason to doubt him until now.

"It was boring," he admitted, a smirk on his face. "A routine council briefing and then a meeting with a couple of ambassadors and families. Nothing strenuous; how was yours?"

"Honestly?" Clarke asked, eyeing him. "A bit frustrating; I'm not an idiot so I know things won't always go my way but for once, I'd like it to."

"The problem everyone in our position faces," Jacob smirked, leaning back on the bench and looking over at her. "Don't be alarmed but your mother wanted me to speak to you about something."

"Of course," she smiled back, leaning back on the bench as well. "What is it?"

"Suitors," he said, making Clarke eye him curiously. "Just let me finish before you interrupt. She's told me you have a few gentlemen you are considering and I understand why. They are all coming into powerful titles and positions so I won't question your judgement there. I've never had reason to doubt your judgement and I don't intend to start doubting you now. However, I must warn you, as a concerned father and a councilman, that you're walking a very dangerous road."

"My thoughts exactly," Clarke sighed, lacing her fingers together on her lap. "That's why I'd like things to go my way, just this once."

"When it concerns the heart, things never go as planned," he commented, smiling down at her. "So, tell me, what gentlemen have convinced my normally stoic and focused daughter to consider them?"

"It's a little complicated," Clarke sighed, glancing up at him. "I'm not entirely sure and to be honest, there is a lot to consider."

"Entirely my fault," he admitted, a sheepish grin on his face. "I decided when you were born I'd raise you free of worry and involvement in this messy family business and I've never regretted it. You've grown into a compassionate and ambitious young woman; someone I couldn't be more proud of. However, I didn't prepare you for the road ahead and for that, I'm more than sorry."

"You've taught me everything, though," she smiled up at him. "You and grandpa and mom… everyone has always been there for me and now, I have to be there for them. I understand everything father, I just wish I knew more."

"Is that why you accessed my files?" he asked, eyeing her playfully.

"I didn't mean to pry," Clarke admitted, feeling a bit ashamed. She'd never done anything like this before.

"No, it's alright. I don't store all the files here at home but the ones I do store are generic," he chuckled, running his hand through his blonde and graying hair. "I don't mind, I just wish you'd come to me if you're curious."

"It's a pretty complicated subject," Clarke said, feeling her cheeks flush. "I mean, there is a lot you don't know."

"I've got the rest of the night off," he smiled, moving so she could turn at face him on the bench. "Tell me what's on your mind."

"It's the Blake family," she admitted, immediately deciding to tell him everything she's learned. "Bellamy was attacked on the northern road and he's convinced it wasn't grounders so far into our territory. I'm resolved to help him because that's a kind of precedent we don't need to be setting. The problem with that is we are at the top of the list of enemies and our connections are vast. I don't honestly know what to think; it may be the Jaha family because of their bid on the wall's construction but I cannot be certain."

Jacob pondered over this for a while, watching her distantly before sighing, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "I see," he commented, a grin spreading over his face. "That is what has you concerned? The attack on Bellamy Blake?"

"It is," she said, eyeing him curiously. "We cannot allow someone to just attack a future council member, father. What if it would have been me? Or Wells?"

"I see your righteous anger about it," he nodded, his voice steady and low. "But you don't understand everything. The bid for the wall has been taken up by the Jaha and Keller Engineering Corporation but they are still hammering out the deal for the supplies. There's a meeting tomorrow between the families to discuss the price of building materials and the start date. It's all taken care of so don't worry about Wells or Thelonious; they have done nothing to the Blake family, and neither have I."

"Then I don't know who it could be," Clarke sighed, looking down at her lap. "Why would anyone resort to such a harsh reaction against the heir to their family? What Arkadian could make such a sudden decision?"

"How does he know it was an Arkadian?" Jacob asked, looking sideways at her.

"How could Azgeda or anyone else travel so far within our borders, undetected? And why would they target the Blake's specifically? How did they know they would be travelling north at all? It's all too convenient, father. Think about it…"

"Oh, I have," he smiled, looking directly at her. "At some length. Ever since Kayden came to the council and told us what had happened. Is this what's distracting you from suitors?"

"Dad," Clarke said, looking away again. "Come on…"

"I'm attempting to be serious," Jake chuckled, noticing her embarrassment. "This suitor choice is no small matter."

"I don't need reminding," she assured, placing a hand on his shoulder. "And if you truly want to know, it isn't easy. There are some choices but this kind of decision takes time."

"Your mother has voiced concern over the choices," he admitted, sheepishly grinning at her, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. "She said you're seriously considering the Murphy and the Blake boy alongside Landell Pike."

"You disapprove?"

"I worry," he corrected, watching her closely now, his face a mixture of concern and interest. "The Blake and Murphy families are known for their friendship; I don't want my daughter walking into a trap."

"I have considered this," Clarke smirked. "I've considered everything, father. I've gotten to know each one of them and I've started to understand what it actually means to lead our family. I can't confess that it's been easy but I can say that I've learned more than I anticipated."

"Can I ask why you think it is necessary to include Bellamy Blake and Jon Murphy?"

"What other choices do I have?" Clarke asked, looking at him thoughtfully. "Father, a lesser family wouldn't help us at all. And if we turned the Murphy family against the Blake's it would be a greater victory for us overall."

"So, that's your aim? To turn them against one another?"

"That was an option," Clarke admitted, feeling a little ashamed. "But after speaking openly with Jon, I don't think he's up to the responsibility of my suit."

"I can't advise it," Jake insisted, watching her gently. He had a soft smile on his face but his eyes held a fear that he just wouldn't speak. "I don't think it is wise to play such a dangerous game just to find a powerful husband. After all, Landell is an ideal match and I'm sure would have no objections to naming one of your son's Griffin. He has two brothers to carry on the name, after all."

"He's undoubtedly pleasant and reliable," Clarke nodded, her father's smile encouraging her to keep going. "He's kind as well, unbelievably fair and not at all like the military-minded brutes I've had to sift through."

"So, why draw out the decision?"

"Love," she replied simply, making him look at her doubtfully. "I want to find love, father; just like you and mother. I heard your romance began when she hauled off and hit you, right in the middle of graduation. You were always at each other's throats and maybe that was just because you loved each other; I want that feeling too."

"I can't blame you," he replied, his voice soft and full of remembrance. "Your mother was so headstrong, so smart and independent. I don't think I could ever deny you what we found so easily."

"Things are just so complicated," Clarke sighed, glancing up at him again. "I don't really know what to make of my feelings."

"I won't lie to you and tell you that I'm comfortable speaking to you about such matters," he chuckled, placing a hand on her shoulder. "But I don't want to see you get hurt."

"It's a dangerous game, I'm aware," Clarke agreed, smiling over at him. "I'm reminded every day. Don't worry though, I think I've formed a true friendship with both Jon and Bellamy. Even if I don't chose to marry them, I seriously think a working relationship could develop."

"Working relationship?" Jake asked, eyeing her curiously. "Do you really think so?"

"Perhaps it is best you hear it from me," Clarke smiled, feeling a little sheepish. "But, soon you're going to hear about a couple of business ventures I've invested in."

"My daughter, investing?" he asked, an amused ring to his voice.

"I hope you'll trust my judgement on this," Clarke said, looking up at his grinning face. "But I don't want you to be disappointed or displeased in me."

"The idea of being disappointed in you is far removed," he nodded, his eyes still watching hers. "What are these investments?"

"I've invested money in a joint project with Jon Murphy to rebuild a few buildings downtown into a casino and lounge," she said, watching his eyes grow wide. "In order to stave off rumor and a violent reaction, I've also agreed to a joint-venture with Bellamy Blake to revitalize Main Avenue in downtown." Jake only stared at her wordlessly, watching her every reaction and curiously mulling over her plans. After a few moments of silence, Clarke looked back down at her lap, sighing softly. "I hoped you wouldn't be too angry but I needed to come into my own, to have real power and influence and this was the only way I could do it."

"And there is nothing I can do to dissuade you?" he asked, his voice tight. "I can't offer you something more suited to your station?"

"It's the poorest district in the entirety of Arkadia," Clarke reasoned, her voice even and low. "It needs the renovation."

"That may be but surely you should partner with your peers, like Wells and Landell," he said, a soft sigh escaping his lips. "Raven would be a big help with such projects."

"Because, whether you like it or not, we should work with them, sometimes," Clarke smirked, nudging him gently. "Please, don't be mad at me."

"Mad isn't exactly the word," he said, turning to look at her fully. "I'm disappointed in myself for pushing you to this. Please, at least tell me you're sure about all this. I've never had reason to doubt you but right now, I worry you're letting your emotions cloud your judgement."

"I'll do what I have to do, father," she assured, placing her hand on his shoulder and squeezing it tightly. "You taught me everything I know and I couldn't have asked for a better teacher. Let me prove to you I can do this."

"I'll arrange for you to attend the meeting tomorrow," her father nodded, a smile spreading on his face. "The Griffin's should be represented by one of our own, alongside Wells and Landell. And to be fair, you do need more first-hand experience."

"I can do that," Clarke nodded, her eyes alight at the opportunity. "Do you have details?"

"I'll have them brought up to you after dinner," he chuckled, moving to stand. "Come, your mother is probably waiting for us."

Clarke enjoyed a lively dinner with her parents, completely distracted from her work ahead. Her mother had talked about the new techniques they were employing in research and development and she also talked about an upcoming gala hosted in honor of the ambassadors from Polis. Clarke chatted with them for a while, enjoying a simple but filling dinner until she finally dismissed herself, disappearing to her room. Once the documents were sent up to her room, Clarke happily looked them over, working diligently into the night. It was nearly midnight when she'd laid down in her bed, fully up to speed on the deal she'd be negotiating tomorrow. It was a major piece of work that ensured the future of Arkadia and she'd be working with all her fellow future council members. Before she fully settled into her pillows and blankets, Clarke couldn't help but picture a familiar set of dark brown eyes framed in sporadic freckles. The thought of his upturned smirk and his strong arms were the last things she thought of before drifting into a surprisingly dreamless sleep.

* * *

"They should be arriving shortly," Kayden noted, staring out the window as he lounged on a comfortable couch. "I'm glad Octavia went to bed without a fuss."

"She was quite tired," Aurora offered, pouring herself some wine from the mini bar next to the fireplace. "I hope the delegation enjoys venison. We've made sure to cook it into a simple stew and I've arranged for some of the chef's best pastries."

"I doubt it matters," Bellamy scoffed, downing the rest of his drink and setting the cup on the coffee table in front of him. "They probably don't even have pastries."

Bellamy had been in a bad mood all day, confined to the house after he'd snuck off last night. His mother, and Octavia, weren't happy about it and had almost sent out their guard searching for him. His father, however, had went forward with his plans to host Azgeda and Bellamy had been sour about it all day. He'd hoped to fend off his father's insistence on an Azgeda alliance but Kayden had made if forcefully clear that the planned dinner, and negotiations, should officially be initiated.

"They don't even have electricity like the other clans," Bellamy continued, glancing over at his father. "Will I be expected to live there or will my new bride and I live here?"

"You've been off all day," Aurora commented, noting his attitude. "What's gotten into you?"

"Clarke turned him down," Kayden noted, smirking at Bellamy. "He's been moping all day."

"She didn't reject me!" Bellamy groaned, glaring at his father. "She just doesn't trust me."

"Do you blame her?" Aurora asked, glancing between the two of them. "Who knows what you two were plotting."

"I was being unexpectedly earnest," Bellamy said, glaring at his father. "I told you I just needed a little more time."

"This match with Azgeda is going to take weeks to arrange and finalize," Kayden commented, sipping from his own cup. "But it won't help; Clarke has no incentive to choose you, especially since a safe match with the Pike boy gives her exactly what she needs."

"If I convince her, I won't go along with this marriage you've arranged," Bellamy insisted, waving his hand for emphasis. "I don't believe an alliance with Azgeda is the right way to go, anyway. Especially since most of our people will see it as a betrayal."

"With Azgeda's friendship we can easily impose our own demands on the council," Kayden argued, watching Bellamy closely. "Also, our line continues as Azgeda royalty, something invaluable to future generations. Your son, my grandson, could be the King of Azgeda."

"Or the first Emperor of Arkadia," Bellamy reasoned, glaring at is father.

"You're hoping for something that will never be," Kayden sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Be grateful for what you've got, which is more than most."

"You two are like two dogs, biting at each other for no reason at all," Aurora commented, looking between them as she came to sit on the couch between them. "Do you care for Clarke?" Aurora asked, looking at Bellamy.

"I do," Bellamy sighed, looking at the window. "I didn't know it was possible but I actually care about how she feels." Bellamy stood up now, walking over to the minibar and pouring himself another drink. "I actually care if she trusts me and I never imagined I'd feel this way about Clarke Griffin."

"You don't really care what she thinks," Kayden offered, shaking his head in disbelief. Aurora squeezed his knee gently and he just shrugged, downing the rest of his drink. "You care about yourself and you'd rather wed a beautiful rich blonde over an Azgeda war-chief."

"Kayden!" his mother snapped looking back at him. "Use your head and your heart!" she chastised, setting her wine glass on the coffee table in front of her. "Have you ever seen Bellamy like this? Have you ever seen our son so desperate and brooding? It's obvious his feelings are true and who could blame him? You met the girl…"

"Ferocious, just like her mother," Kayden offered, shaking his head. "Influential, smart, and from what I've seen, she has nerves of steel."

"I think our little Bell has found his match," Aurora teased, looking over at Bellamy who had poured himself a full glass of whiskey. "I think, out of all those girlfriends, he's found a true partner."

"Like Bellamy said," Kayden shrugged, looking back at his wife calmly. "She doesn't trust him and is most likely going to choose the Pike boy."

"And who's fault is that?" Bellamy asked, glaring at his father. "We could give her some concessions if she agreed to a match."

"What concessions are those?" Kayden asked, turning to look up at Bellamy who was still standing by the fireplace.

"Her family name," Bellamy stated, glancing over at his parents. "We could guarantee that our female children will bear the name Griffin."

"Have you gone mad?" Kayden asked, his voice becoming dangerously low. "We haven't worked for three generations to gain all this power for you to throw it away on some Griffin girl."

"That's not fair at all," Bellamy retorted, taking a large drink from his glass. "She's not like that and you know it. She genuinely cares for the welfare of Arkadia, as a nation and she values human life, something Azgeda could never understand."

"Since when did you develop these reservations?" Kayden asked, standing up now, his shoulders squared and his voice commanding. "You've been an arena fighter and a soldier for years and one week of contact with this- "

"Kayden!" Aurora hissed, moving to stand.

"This girl," he continued, making Bellamy turn to face him.

"Her name is Clarke…" Bellamy interrupted, stepping closer.

"One week and suddenly your concerned about the lives lost along the way. Have you lost your nerve?" Kayden questioned, grabbing Bellamy's good arm. "Or maybe you're just following the wrong head."

"That is enough," Aurora commanded, making both men look at her. "Look at yourselves, squabbling like a couple of children. Tell me, husband, would it not be more advantageous to ally with our rival, to better cement the first Arkadian dynasty?"

"Don't you turn on me too," Kayden said, letting go of Bellamy's arm. "Don't you lose your nerve. We're so close to achieving an Azgeda alliance, a true path to greater power and you want to just throw it away?"

"Will power keep him safe?" Aurora asked, her eyes narrowed, her voice harsh. "Has it kept us safe so far?"

"An Azgeda marriage would cement our family in history," Kayden argued, looking exasperated. "Aurora, we can't just turn down- "

"It's not our choice to make," Aurora chided, looking over at Bellamy again, effectively silencing Kayden. "Do you love her?"

Bellamy stared at his mother a moment, unsure how to respond to such a question. It was true, he'd felt something for Clarke ever since she'd spoken to him that day in the hospital. Ever since she berated him for being careless and difficult, he'd felt this fire welling up inside him that, when Clarke was around, seemed to almost glow. It was a sensation Bellamy couldn't explain and the harder he contemplated it, the more obvious it became.

"Fine," Aurora nodded, looking at Kayden. "We'll enter tentative negotiations with Azgeda and if it happens that you and Clarke decide to be together, we'll be able to withdraw at any time."

"I don't like any of this," Kayden argued, his eyes darting between them. "I don't think it wise to test Azgeda's patience. If they can't find an ally in us, they'll look elsewhere."

"And who in Arkadia would have them?" Bellamy asked, swigging the whiskey in his cup. "No one in Arkadia trusts them or wants to do business with them except you."

"We need this alliance," Kayden assured, shaking his head at the two before sitting back down on the couch. "We need to find out which of our enemies ordered those assassination attempts."

"I'm endeavoring to find out," Bellamy snapped, looking out the window. "But we can't discuss it now. Look; our guests are arriving."

"I expect the ambassador, his delegation, to want to eat first so, for the time being, let there be no talk of politics," Aurora nodded, taking one more large slug of wine before turning from the room. "Come, let's go greet our guests."

Bellamy finished his drink and followed his mother and father into the large open hallway. They walked quickly toward the foyer ahead, the second-floor gallery overlooking the large wood framed room. It had always been simply, but uniquely decorated with whitewashed walls and elaborate wooden frames about the room bending and bowing with one another into elegant twists and trim. The front door, which was also made of wood, was in the shape of a great tree, it's branches spreading to the lintel and the handle ornately carved to look like another branch.

His father's manservant was already waiting for them by the door, ready to welcome their guests. Aurora quickly turned to Bellamy now, inspecting his outfit. His father insisted that he not wear the sling and he felt guilty for defying Clarke's orders. If there was anything his father feared it was the appearance of weakness. She fixed his collar quickly, the deep blue woolen tunic flowing down to his hips as she dusted off some lint and a few stray hairs.

There was a knock at the door then and Aurora quickly rearranged Bellamy's bangs before straightening herself up. Kayden just smirked before nodding at his man to open the door for the Azgeda delegation. Bellamy wasn't sure who was more shocked but when the door opened, standing in the entry was Lexa, her long brown curls tied up on her head. Beside her stood a shorter, but curvier, woman with auburn hair, a scar just under her left eye. She had on heavy white furs and an ornate metal crown that accented the brilliant silver of her eyes. Behind her stood three men, one of which Bellamy recognized as the Azgeda ambassador. He stepped forward first, offering his hand to Kayden.

As they all came into the foyer, Kayden and Ambassador Syd shook hands, both smiling widely at each other. "Councilman Blake," he said, turning sideways so he could see the two women behind him. "May I present Princess Roya of Azgeda, war-chief of the Land of Falls and first daughter of Queen Nia of Azgeda."

All three Blake's bowed respectfully as the princess handed her fur jacket over to Kayden's manservant. She then stepped forward, extending a hand confidently.

"This is how you greet one another in Arkadia, correct?" she asked, looking over at Kayden. He took her hand immediately, shaking it with a smile.

"Yes, that is our custom," he replied, smiling over at ambassador Syd. "What a pleasant surprise! Had I known that princess Roya would be attending, I'd have prepared a larger feast!"

"No need for all that," she said, shaking her head. "I insisted I attend this meeting as well as my friend, and confidant, Lexa. You know her already, I believe?"

"We've formally met," Kayden nodded, turning to the taller dark haired girl. "But we've never hosted the daughter of the Commander of the Coalition."

"No matter," Roya smiled, looking over at Aurora. "It's lovely to meet you Mrs. Blake. I was told you were a beauty but I can see that rumor doesn't compare."

"You're most welcome in my home," Aurora said, offering her a drink as a couple more servants came in to take their jackets and offer wine.

"Oh, thank you," she said, taking a glass before looking back over at Ambassador Syd. "Make sure they remain sober," she pointed at the two other men, dressed in long gray, fur-lined, tunics. "They must make a full accounting of the night."

"As you command, highness," Syd nodded, turning to look at Bellamy. "And this must be the young heir."

Bellamy smiled gently, bowing his head. "I'm Bellamy Blake, Captain in the Embassy Guard and Olympic Arena Champion, two years running."

"Very impressive," Roya said, moving closer to inspect him. He'd never encountered something like this before and her boldness was somewhat endearing. She looked at him quizzically, her eyes drifting over his face and down over the rest of his body. "I thought you'd be some sort of thin-armed priest or healer but I'm glad to see I was wrong. You're quite handsome."

"And you're quite beautiful yourself, princess," he smiled, immediately remembering the way Clarke glared at him when he'd used her nickname. Roya was, in Bellamy's honest opinion, a stunning woman. She wasn't thin but toned, slightly intimidating, and entirely enticing. Her silver eyes reflected her curiosity and her auburn hair was tied away from her face, flowing down her neck and back. She was also quite curvy, wearing a revealing leather top that allowed her cleavage to be visible. It was quite erotic and Bellamy wondered if he enjoyed looking at her because of her own beauty or because he was simply comparing her to Clarke.

"I'm a warrior, not a beauty," she smirked, glancing over at Syd. She then took a drink of her wine, looking about the foyer curiously. "This is beautiful; I haven't seen woodwork like this before."

"Not even in Azgeda?" Aurora asked, looking about. "Bellamy's great-grandfather Baellion hired Azgeda craftsman to design the wooden fixtures throughout the home."

"My father also hired Azgeda craftsman to refurbish the great spire in Polis," Lexa chimed, a smile on her face as she sipped her wine. "Azgeda is known for their woodworking skills and carpentry. Even the great Halls of Azgeda are built from solid wood."

"I was trying to be friendly," Roya sighed, smiling at Lexa. "I was complimenting their home."

"It is quite beautiful," Lexa nodded, looking about the room.

"So," Roya said, shrugging her shoulders and looking back at Kayden. "Shall we get right to business or dine first?"

"We've prepared a meal of venison stew, a modest but hearty dish," Aurora nodded, motioning for princess Roya to walk with her. "Along with breads and pastries made in the Arkadian fashion."

"Sounds good, we'll talk business over dinner," Roya smiled, keeping stride with Aurora as they made their way back down the wide hall. They turned down another short but wide corridor that opened into a grand hall, usually reserved for banquets and parties. Bellamy noticed the way Aurora marveled at the size of their home, the vaulted and sculpted stone pieces about the ceiling drawing the most attention.

"It's modelled after an old dining hall designed by an English king from over seven hundred years ago," Aurora motioned, glancing at the ceiling. "There are even ornate wooden carvings with the Blake 'B' attached to the eves."

"Fascinating," Roya nodded, her eyes wandering to the large portrait of their family. It was taken digitally and then printed to canvas for their dining hall. It was framed by two ornately decorated woven tapestries, highlighting Arkadia's descent to earth.

"I almost forget that your people came from the stars," she smiled, looking over at Kayden.

"Born from starlight, some grounder clans whisper," he chuckled, nodding his head. "Just lucky survivors of Armageddon."

"Praimfaya effected many, including my people," Roya nodded, following Aurora as they entered a cozy, but colorful dining room. The walls had decorative paintings on them of food and natural scenes while the ornately carved table shined underneath the two lights hanging above it.

As they all sat around the table, Bellamy noticed that his mother and father had almost forced him to sit next to Roya, Kayden taking the end seat while Syd, Lexa, and Aurora sat to his left. It wasn't long until the food started coming out, a few waiters and the chef carrying out the ornate metal trays of food and drink. After everyone was situated, with food and drink, small talk ensued. They talked about Azgeda's weather, how Queen Nia was doing, and what Lexa had been up to before Roya dismissed Aurora's inquiry about her brother, turning to Bellamy instead.

"So," she said, taking a sip of the wine, the impatience overtaking her tone. "You're considering a marriage alliance and I've been told, by Syd, that you'd consider an Azgeda match. I want to ask you why you'd consider such a thing when, as far as I can tell, the rest of your people hate my family and my subjects."

"It's a little more complicated than hate," Bellamy said, setting down his napkin and grabbing his drink. He took a sip before continuing, making sure to stay attentive to the commanding woman next to him. "If it were only hate, they could be won over with tribute or alliances. It's their distrust that drives their passions. They distrust your people because of what our ancestors endured when they came back to earth; out of the 958 members that came down on the Ark, 203 were killed in wars with Azgeda."

"So why consider an Azgeda match?" Lexa asked, looking across the table at him.

"In all honesty," Bellamy replied, looking first at Lexa then Roya. "You have a strong, war-ready army and a powerful influence over the coalition. On top of that, I wouldn't just be marrying some Azgeda commoner. I'd be marrying their only princess, the only daughter of Queen Nia; my children would be Azgeda royalty, perhaps even Arkadian royalty, should the time come when we talk of annexation."

"You're blunt and ambitious," Roya nodded, smiling over at Lexa. "You weren't wrong."

"He's also pretty smart and a good warrior," Lexa nodded, smiling over at Aurora as she offered more wine. "For an Arkadian."

"He's a big reader, too," Kayden chuckled, eating a piece of venison. "He's spent almost as much time reading as he has training."

"Have you ever commanded in battle?" Roya questioned, making Lexa smile.

"No, but- "

"What about your training? Are you a ranking military officer?"

"I'm a Captain of Arkadia's most elite force, the Embassy Guard," Bellamy reasoned, looking at her dubiously. "And the last skirmish we were forced to fight was to push Azgeda from our land, as sanctioned by The Commander. That was almost four years ago, if I recall. A young commander by the name of Pike held off the Azgeda siege until coalition backup could arrive."

"It was a terrible decision, made in haste," Syd chimed in, smiling at Kayden. "After all, Azgeda has paid heavily for her disobedience, as The Commander bids."

"Then no more enmity," Roya nodded, looking from Syd to Kayden before smiling back at Bellamy. "We can work out an historical alliance between us and perhaps, the foundations of a dynasty."

"I'm here to negotiate preliminary demands and issues," Bellamy chimed, taking another drink from his wine glass, irritated that his mother had chosen not to serve liquor at dinner. This night had already turned disastrous and Bellamy was thoroughly irritated with the insinuation that he was some sort of prized breeding stud. He was also irritated because in everything Roya said and did, Bellamy was comparing her to Clarke. She wasn't as refined, polite, or witty as Clarke and it irritated Bellamy that this was the life, the woman, he'd be tied to for life. He doubted the Azgeda Queen, or Prince Roan, would let him off the hook if they'd cemented a relationship.

"Preliminary demands and issues," Roya chimed, her eyes going wide. She looked shocked but it was comical, the way her eyes lit up and the way she became instantly inquisitive. "Like what? What issues or demands would you have of us?"

"I think he means to test the water before diving in head first," Lexa commented, watching Bellamy closely. "I don't think he's quite sold on the prospect of marriage."

"Is that so?" Roya asked, a wide grin on her face. "Well, I'll admit, neither was I." She laughed then and Bellamy immediately perked up, noticing how light and cute her laugh was. It was almost amazing, the way her face lit up and her lighter side seemed to take over her personality. "It was my mother and brother's idea but here I am, considering a grumpy boy from Arkadia as a suitor."

"He broods quite a bit these days," Aurora commented, gaining Bellamy's attention.

"Something he and my brother have in common," she nodded, looking at Aurora. "As you know, I'm turning twenty this next moon and a marriage, and a child, could severely impede my duties as war-chief. You have two children, do you not? What is your daughter's name?"

"Octavia," Aurora replied, making Kayden look at her anxiously. "She's eleven and was so mad she couldn't attend tonight."

"What a name," Roya smiled, looking over at Kayden. "A family name?"

"No," Aurora smiled, shaking her head. "Bellamy was seven years old when Octavia was born and it was a tough labor. I wasn't sure I'd make it and I let him choose her name for me. He chose a name straight from the history books, one of his favorite figures."

"Named after the sister of Octavian Augustus Caesar," Bellamy explained, all eyes turned to him. "The very first Emperor of the greatest civilization ever seen: Rome."

"How long ago?" Roya asked, her eyes alight with inquiries.

"Over 2,200 years ago," Bellamy explained, completely loosing track of himself. He'd never been asked about history, or questions pertaining to his historical interests and for a moment, he felt a sense of pride. Clarke didn't ask about his interests, nor did she care to know them and that was something that made Roya stand apart from the blonde surgeon. It was the thought of Clarke, and the frustration of his need to compare them, that made him pick up his wine and down the rest of the glass. Roya chuckled at this and did the same, raising hers before drinking.

Everyone else mirrored her and Lexa chuckled, waving at Roya to drop the history lesson as she changed the subject. "So, Octavia is eleven?" Lexa asked, looking at Aurora.

"I entered my first fight at eleven," Roya nodded, making Lexa grin. "Or was it ten?"

"If you're talking about that Sankru girl with the headwrap, we were eleven," Lexa nodded, making Roya smile, the rest of the group joining in. "And she came charging at us."

"Either way, I remember being Octavia's age," Roya nodded. "All fire and curiosity."

"That's exactly what she is," Aurora assured, motioning for the servants to refill their wine glasses. "So, how are you enjoying the meal, Princess?"

"It's delicious but I don't recognize the spices," Roya admitted. "Are they Arkadian?"

"Yes, we grow parsley, chives, and peppercorn all right here at the manor," Aurora nodded. "And this deer was killed this past fall, right darling?"

"Bellamy brought it down," Kayden nodded, making Bellamy grin, coming back to the conversation at hand. "From over two hundred yards out with a rifle in the southern mountain passes."

"Near the Broad Leaf mountains?" Lexa asked, smiling. "I've been there, they have almost as much game as The Lake People."

"We stalked it for an entire day," Kayden nodded. "Was a great trip and we even got a few elk hides."

"Elk is also a tasty dish," Roya pointed, making Bellamy smile as she took another bite of her food. "But Azgeda dishes are mostly comprised of meats and hearty vegetables."

"And the game? I hear there are many bears in the northern region of Azgeda," Bellamy asked, smiling over at Roya. "Do you hunt?"

"With a bow," she smiled. "I've been a huntress since I was old enough to shoot."

"And battle? You've commanded before, I take it?"

"Twice," she smiled. "I was a commander under my brother during the attacks four years ago. I was also a commander just last year in a skirmish with Delphi over contested land owed to the Lake People."

"So, you're experienced?" Bellamy asked, making her smile confidently.

"And interested in an alliance that could make me the most powerful war-chief in Azgeda," she smirked. "Of course, I'm practically there already but humor me with some business talk. What, if I were to offer marriage, would you offer in exchange?"

"Traditionally, the woman's family pays for what is called a dowry," Syd chimed in, nodding at Roya. "So, firstly a sum of precious metals or raw materials would need to be agreed on."

"Sounds complicated," Roya shrugged, taking a sip of her drink. "But what do I get in return?"

"You get the marriage and, in some definite terms, an Arkadian alliance," Syd explained, making Lexa chuckle.

"What does this alliance entail?" Roya asked, turning to look at Kayden.

"I would push several proposals past the council, including lowering the tax rate on imported and exported goods to Azgeda," Kayden nodded, looking over at Lexa. "Assuming, of course, The Commander doesn't object to the alliance."

"It would have to be worked out in conclave," Lexa reasoned, leaning back in her chair. "But, as far as I can see, there shouldn't be anything interfering with this alliance."

"I'm sure the other clans will want to renegotiate, considering the amount of power and influence Azgeda will be a part of," Syd explained.

"And the other proposals?" Roya asked, glancing over at Bellamy.

"A few small amendments to our laws that allow the Blake descendants, begot by you and Bellamy," Kayden motioned, taking a drink of his wine before continuing. "To inherit land along our north border for necessary relations between the two nations."

"What about a military?" Roya asked, glancing at Lexa. "Would the commander allow us to keep our guards and warriors so close to the border?"

"I can't speak for my father," Lexa pointed. "And I can't speak for the other ambassadors. There won't be a definitive answer until it's discussed in Polis."

"What about weapons?"

"Part of the more in depth negotiations," Kayden insisted, nodding at Syd.

"Yes, tonight I think it proper for you and Bellamy to meet and come to understand one another," Syd smiled, taking a drink of his wine. "After all, we have plenty of time to discuss details, right?"

"Surely Bellamy has more pressing concerns, and romances to attend to," Roya commented, looking over at Kayden briefly before turning to Bellamy. "Are you willing to extend our negotiations until a settlement can be reached?"

"We are more than happy to work with your schedule," Kayden assured, gaining Roya's attention. "And we can negotiate every detail until both parties are satisfied."

"I was asking Bellamy," Roya smiled, wiggling her finger at Kayden as she kept her eyes on Bellamy. "So, what do you say?"

"Take your time," Bellamy mused, a smile playing on his lips. "I'm in no rush."

"I'm sure we can come to an arrangement quickly," Syd commented. "Queen Nia and Councilman Blake are, as I understand it, willing to concede several conciliations."

"Then I believe our preliminary negotiations can press forward to the next step," Roya nodded. "We'll have to set up another meeting to discuss it in full, with a full retinue present for the agreement. My brother is keen to be involved." Roya then stood from her chair, everyone else rising from the table as she did so. "It has been a lovely night but on that high note, I will leave you. I was travelling home from Polis when my ambassador told me of this meeting. I insisted on attending to meet the entire Blake family."

"You sure you won't stay for some dessert or perhaps another drink?" Aurora asked, smiling at the young girl as she stepped out around her chair and made her way toward the door. Aurora followed, as did the others, and soon they were back in the main hall, crossing the clean and shined wooden floor.

"I was just glad to be a part of the negotiations," Roya nodded, looking over at Aurora. "I believe that we could work together but I have to ask you about something." Roya paused now, her pace slowing until she stopped, just before the door that lead into the long hallway. She turned to Kayden, looking over Bellamy curiously before continuing. "Who attacked you earlier this week? All of Polis is talking about it."

"We had to cover up our little negotiation this evening," Kayden explained, smiling tightly at them. "The council is under the impression that tonight's meeting was to discuss a settlement between my family and Azgeda over the recent attacks. Councilman Griffin and many other fellow members believe it to be the work of your people."

"The commander sanctioned no such raid," Lexa commented, looking at Roya.

"Nor did my mother," Roya quipped, looking at Kayden narrowly. "Do you have any idea who it might have been?"

"We're working on details but in the meantime, I think it best for Syd to seem to be negotiating a settlement," Kayden nodded, his eyes never leaving Roya. "It would be unfortunate to raise suspicion now, given that we don't know who the attackers were."

"We'll arrange another meeting," Roya insisted, looking at Lexa. "Rumor will spread so I best return to Azgeda."

"I'll head back to Polis," Lexa nodded. "My father will want details about tonight"

"I hope our family will be able to host you again," Aurora spoke up, walking next to Roya as they made their way down the long hallway toward the foyer. "I would love to show you around Arkadia the next time you visit."

"Oh," Roya chuckled, turning to look at Aurora. "I was never here. As far as everyone knows, I never came here."

"Understood," Aurora smiled, stepping aside as the manservant from before offered the silver-eyed princess her fur jacket.

She slipped it on, turning from the others to speak directly to Kayden. "I'll be sure to relay your plans and requests to my mother. I'll also send you a courier to better keep in touch."

"I look forward to doing business," Kayden said, an unmistakable twinkle of distress hidden in his dark eyes as he bowed politely. Bellamy mirrored him, curious about the change in his father's attitude. It was odd and as the rest of the group bid Kayden and Aurora goodnight, Roya spoke to Bellamy one last time.

"I'll consider your suit and I'll be sure to be punctual," she said, smiling up at him. Her bright silver eyes were alight with fascination and determination. "It shouldn't take long to find a compromise that fits both of our families."

"I'll be eagerly awaiting your delegation," Bellamy nodded, a seductive smile on his face. "Safe trip, princess."

"Until we meet again?" she asked, a knowing smirk spread across her face. "That is the proper way Arkadian's say goodbye, correct?"

"Until we meet again," Bellamy assured, nodding down at her.

Princess Roya then turned from him, nodding at Kayden and Aurora one more time before leading Ambassador Syd, Lexa, and the two guards, out the door. When it shut behind them, Kayden turned to Aurora, looking weary.

"I'm going up to my study and then I'll be to bed," he nodded, embracing her shortly, placing a kiss on her forehead.

"I'll go check on Octavia and take a bath," Aurora smiled, kissing his cheek before turning to Bellamy. "Come, I'll walk with you to your room; you need rest."

"Goodnight," Kayden said one more time before quickly turning from them, stalking evenly up the stairs and disappearing in one of the adjacent corridors. Bellamy watched him curiously before looking back down at his mother. She also had an inquisitive look on her face and Bellamy sighed, shaking his head.

"He's up to something," Bellamy reasoned, glancing back up at the second-floor terrace. "He's too keen on this match with Azgeda and his lust for power has blinded him."

"Your father knows what he is doing," Aurora reasoned, giving him a stern look. "It's time for bed, come on." She laced her arm through his good one, walking slowly up the stairs toward the western corridor. After they'd made it to Bellamy's room, Aurora offered to bring him some water and a pill the hospital prescribed but Bellamy refused. He told his mother he was going to change and get right into bed and, to his relief, she believed him, shutting the bedroom door with a soft snap as she left.

However, instead of getting straight into bed after he changed, Bellamy sat at his desk, staring blankly at the computer screen in front of him. He'd received an email from Monty almost two hours ago, the title catching Bellamy's attention.

 _From: Monty Green_

 _Subject: We Have a Problem_

 _Bellamy,_

 _I've just been told that Clarke is attending the negotiations tomorrow at the Embassy. Her father has assigned her as the representative of Griffin interests. Be there early tomorrow to discuss our proposition._

 _Monty_

Bellamy groaned at this, leaning back in his chair and staring aimlessly at the screen. It seemed the harder he tried, the more problems he seemed to make for himself. In fact, ever since Unity Day almost two weeks ago, things have gone from bad to impossibly worse. Everything was starting to fall apart and the loose framework holding the crumbling mess together was him, even if his father liked to pretend all was well. Soon, the Council will be enacting measures to increase patrols and military aid to the northern region of Arkadia. On top of this, if the other council members were to delve deeper into the attacks, it would uncover Kayden and Bellamy's lies and secrets. It would expose his father's plans for an alliance with Azgeda and it would permanently damage their reputation, whether they actually went through with it or not. Also, the guns that had gone missing had yet to turn up anywhere, including the black market. It seemed that whoever stole them needed them for something other than trade.

The more Bellamy pondered all the problems, the more adamantly he began pushing away the thoughts of Clarke. She was there when he closed his eyes, her electric blue eyes staring into his soul. He could picture the way that small mole above her lip accented the smile she'd had last night, the melodic tune of her laughter filling his ears. He should have never allowed himself to feel this way, to open that door because now, it could never be closed. Clarke had barged through it without so much as breaking a sweat, her honey blonde hair engulfing Bellamy in a plain of silk and satin. He couldn't get her off his mind, no matter what he tried to think of and every moment that passed felt like an eternity of questions.

He sat there for almost an hour, pondering what to do about Clarke and the meeting the next day. His face was sullen and tired when he finally pushed himself from his desk, shutting off the monitor to his computer and shifting toward the bed. He didn't know how to be rid of her and as he got comfortable on the plush bed, he recalled the scent of honey that had overwhelmed him the night before. He almost punched the pillow in frustration, rolling over to look out the balcony window. Many more thoughts wound through his head, keeping him in a fantasy all his own as he watched the clouds drift over the stars. The last thing he remembered thinking was how warm and thrilling it would be to have Clarke there with him under the sheets.

* * *

 **The complications of power and position can change many hearts! Let us see where this goes. Thanks for the read! Please review.**


	16. Chapter 16: Aggressive Negotiations

**If you must break the law, do it to seize power: in all other cases observe it. - Gaius Julius Caesar**

* * *

"What did you say?" Bellamy asked, his eyes wide in shock.

"I just heard Wells and Landell talking about it," Monty said, sitting next to Bellamy at the long wooden table. They were in one of the annexes at the embassy, waiting to begin their meeting about the expansion of the wall. "Clarke has been sent as the representative of the Griffin family in these negotiations."

"That's surprising," Harper said, looking across Monty at Bellamy. "She's never once represented the Griffin family in official negotiations."

"When was this all decided?" Bellamy asked, his eyes narrowed between the two of them. "I got your email late last night but- "

"The more appropriate question is why," Monty argued. "She has no experience negotiating deals like this, so why is she here?"

"You two are missing the significance of this meeting," Harper hissed, glancing at the door. "Soon, the future council will sit down for the first time and negotiate an engineering contract that will affect the rest of our lives."

"You're making too much of this," Monty joked, a smile on his face as he looked over at Harper. "She's probably just here to observe."

"You obviously don't know Clarke Griffin," Bellamy commented, staring at the table in front of him. He wasn't expecting to have to speak with her so soon, and about business he knew she'd play a role in. Whether it was her first time made no difference; she would use this as a basis for any future delegation and negotiation.

"We've named out terms, set out a fair deal, what more is to be discussed?" Monty asked, rolling his eyes as he leaned back in his chair. "You're making a big deal out of nothing."

"We may not be renegotiating but this will be an interesting negotiation," Harper smirked, placing her hand on Monty's leg, gazing into his eyes. "We should treat this as an opportunity, I think."

"Opportunity?" Monty asked, making Bellamy glance over at her.

"Yes, the six of us could work out a future dynamic that works for all of us," Harper offered, looking between them. "Don't tell me you're not curious about how it will work. Not to mention, Clarke is about as stubborn as Bellamy is. We're bound to run into problems further down the road. Why not hear her out in advance, maybe even weigh in on this peaceful plan she keeps singing about?"

"She hasn't even chosen a suitor," Monty sighed, placing his hand over Harper's. "How do we know she's even going to be relevant in the future, especially if Bellmay has his way?"

"You're naïve if you think she'll be irrelevant," Bellamy warned, looking over at both Monty and Harper. "She's ambitious and smart; no doubt it would be easier to work with her instead of against her."

"What's this change in attitude?" Monty asked, eyeing both Harper and Bellamy who had grins on their faces. "I know his reasoning but yours? Why are you so interested in what Clarke thinks or why she's here?"

"Because," Harper sighed, her hand still under his. "Whether you like it or not, we're stuck with her. Better to dive right in than tip-toe, right?"

"I'll compromise to a certain extent but I will not just give the spoiled Griffin princess what she wants," Monty commented, looking over at Harper with a defiant glare. "She's not going to dictate my decisions for me."

"You're too smart for that," Harper grinned, making a slight blush come over Monty's cheeks.

"If you two are done, I'd like to go over our final proposal," Bellamy interrupted, looking over at them. "We're agreed?"

"Twenty five percent cost reduction on the lumber the Green's need and fifty tons of iron to be purchased from the McIntyre and Blake mines," Harper reiterated, nodding at Bellamy. "Seems entirely fair considering they'll be using their own forges, quarries, and timber for the rest of it."

"If my plans don't fall through, this should be a smooth negotiation," Bellamy nodded, lounging in the comfortably plush chair at the long table.

"But that's the problem," Monty noted, a smirk on his face now.

"His plans always get screwed up," Harper smirked, making Bellamy look at her indignantly.

Before Bellamy could protest, the door to the small annex opened and in walked Wells, a portfolio and handheld under his arm. Behind him Bellamy could see the familiar blonde curls of Clarke, a serene smile on her face as she looked over her shoulder, Landell not far behind. Bellamy felt instantly aware of Clarke the moment she turned to look at Landell. He had a bright smile on his face and it irritated Bellamy to see the smile on Clarke's face in return.

"And so, it begins," Landell joked, motioning to the room about them. "It's not as complicated as Wells likes to make it seem, right Wells?"

Bellamy found that he couldn't take his eyes off Clarke in that moment. She was stunning, almost a completely different woman standing in front of him. The shy and childish teen that he'd glimpsed the other night wasn't there anymore but was replaced by a stunning young woman. She had on a simple charcoal gray dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, the shoulders sleek almost as if she was wearing a suit. He also saw the way the neckline plunged to reveal almost a full inch of her cleavage. Bellamy could almost feel the hormones racing within him as he noticed how tightly it laced around her bust, making him imagine all sorts of naughty scenarios involving teachers, librarians, and secretaries.

"It's usually not complicated," Wells corrected, smiling across the table at Bellamy now, snapping him to the present. "Good to see you out and about; how is your arm?"

"It's been better," Bellamy said, regaining his composure. He smiled up at Wells, offering his good hand. Wells extended his arm and clasped Bellamy's forearm, a knowing nod as he pulled away. He pulled out the chair opposite Bellamy and sat down, Clarke sitting next to him and Landell pulling the end chair out to sit close to Clarke.

"I was surprised to learn you'd be here with us Clarke," Harper offered, a smile on her face. "You've never been here before, have you?"

"I have but never for negotiations," Clarke smiled, Landell leaning back in his chair and observing the two women. "I was only just brought in on this last night so I'll try not to cause problems."

"The negotiation is mostly between the rest of our families anyway," Wells offered, smiling over at Harper. "So, should we start?"

"Let's not make this a drawn-out affair," Landell offered, smiling over at Clarke. "It becomes extremely tedious, especially on a beautiful day like today."

"Agreed," Monty said, sitting up straight in his chair, placing his hands on the table. "So, have you read over our terms?"

"We have," Wells continued, eyeing Bellamy. "Your proposal is fair but we have some peripheral negotiations we'd like to hammer out."

"Such as?" Monty asked, his eyes glancing at Bellamy as well. Bellamy, however, was deep in thought, completely detached from what was in front of him. Instead, he was considering the way Landell and Clarke sat so closely, the way she smiled over at him before looking at Wells, intent on avoiding any contact with Bellamy at all. Once he realized he was distracted, he turned to Wells, intent on focusing entirely on the problem at hand.

"To move that much steel ore from the north to the construction site in the west will take a considerable amount of man-power," Wells began, looking between Bellamy, Harper, and Monty. "So, as part of the agreement, we'd like to request that your family help the workers monetarily," Wells nodded, looking directly at Bellamy. "Since the Green family hasn't put their name to the project yet, we were thinking of negotiating a 33% price drop in the timber and in exchange, the Green family will fund half the worker's salaries, an estimated cost of three thousand silver."

"That makes the discount 29%on the lumber," Monty pointed, leaning back in his chair. "It is still better than what we agreed upon so I'll consent to this."

"There is one more thing," Landell spoke up, looking over at Bellamy. Bellamy didn't like the way he was smiling, or the way Clarke looked at him. "The transport of that much material over the course of weeks will need sufficient protection. After reading over the brief the council released about your attack over a week ago, there is no doubt in my mind that the northern roads aren't safe to travel. Not until we find out who attacked you and your father. So, I ask that you allow Pike militia to escort the shipments through Green and Blake lands."

There was an awkward silence in the room now that was quickly filled by Monty's dissent.

"Why did you wait to bring this to the table?" Monty asked, his eyes wide. "This is an enormous request."

"And what do you mean, until we find out?" Bellamy asked, his eyes landing on Clarke who was looking at him cautiously.

"I mean, we can't let an attack like that stand," Landell insisted, looking between Monty and Bellamy. "Clarke has persuaded us that an attack on one member of the council, is an attack on all."

"It is a problem for all of us," Wells spoke up. "It's one thing to battle in the arena, another to endure an assassination attempt on Arkadian soil."

"This isn't what we've come here to discuss," Harper said, glancing over at Monty. "Something this important should have been part of the bid."

"I see your hand behind this," Monty said, staring directly at Clarke. "Bellamy's attack has nothing to do with this expansion project, so why bring any of this up?"

"Clarke only brought to light a problem that needed to be addressed," Landell said, looking at Monty curiously. "What's the problem? It's a perfectly reasonable precaution."

"Marching Pike militia through Green and Blake territory is a hefty request," Bellamy said, his voice stern and full of disbelief. "Do you have any idea how that will look to the commoners?"

"It's an escort for the necessary materials needed for the building project," Landell reasoned, eyeing Bellamy closely. "It'll look like our families are working together. It's a win for all of us."

"Not to mention, we can dedicate more effort to finding out who attacked you while we're already in the area," Wells offered. He was looking over at Monty who'd just stared at them all blankly, Harper's eyes darting between Bellamy and Monty with disbelief. "I don't understand why you're so opposed to this. It is better than the council officially voting to take military action in the north."

"And why should we believe you?" Monty asked, his voice icy. "Why should we believe that this is anything more than a hoax? It is the perfect excuse for you to move a massive number of troops through our lands. On top of that, we don't even know who attacked Bellamy; you can imagine my suspicion at your offer."

"Are you suggesting one of us ordered a hit?" Landell asked, his voice low as his eyes roamed between Bellamy and Monty.

"That is not what they're saying," Harper spoke up, trying to temper the situation. "But you must understand, what you request is a rather large favor. The roads are already well patrolled by Blake and Green men as well as City Guards. There is no need for extra militia…"

"We understand the surprise and suspicion," Wells said, making everyone look at him. "We understand the distrust and the complications you're considering but you have to understand; unlike our predecessors, we believe that there can be a peaceful relationship between us. We aren't asking for much, just an extra fifty troops to accompany the materials. We are also willing to dedicate another twenty of our best to a joint search for those responsible for the recent attack. We aren't trying to betray you; we're trying to help."

Bellamy, who'd remained silent, was looking between the three people across from him. He wasn't sure what to believe, watching their reactions and considering their proposal made him that much more suspicious. How could Clarke think this was a good idea? Bringing all six of them together to solve this problem was dangerous and Bellamy couldn't believe she'd be so stupid. There had to be another reason but Bellamy couldn't even begin to guess at it. Monty, who'd usually remained stoic during these kinds of meetings, had a bewildered look on his face. He was even more irritated with the proposal than Bellamy was, which snapped him back to reality.

"The Blake family agrees to your terms," Bellamy said, making everyone look at him. He only met one set of eyes though, determined to not back down. "If this is what it takes to begin work on the wall, and catch whoever is behind the attack, I'll do it."

"You've got to be joking?" Monty asked, his eyes wide. "We're going to let them march seventy of their troops through our land? Why?" Monty was hot, leaning toward Bellamy. "What is wrong with you?"

"We have some conditions of our own," Bellamy said, his eyes turning from Clarke to Wells. "If we agree to the terms you've proposed, you must lower the tax on incoming grain and soy beans from Green lands into Jaha, Keller, and Chandler lands. Instead of the current tax rate of ten percent, you'll lower it to five for a period lasting no shorter than five years."

"That's outrageous," Wells argued, his eyes narrowed. "Jaha, Chandler, and Keller lands are mostly in the eastern sector where farmland is sparse. Our families need that extra tax income to maintain our operations."

"It is the only offer we are willing to accept," Bellamy said, his eyes never leaving Wells. "It seems that you're still getting the better side of the deal though, Wells."

"How so?" Wells reasoned, looking over at Monty. "Not only does the Green family get a 29% discount on their timber purchase, they also get the privilege of paying less taxes for their grain export into our lands."

"That's the price for thinking that marching seventy men, twenty of your best, through our territory was a small matter," Harper said, looking between Wells and Landell. "You forget, per the Militia Accord of 68 P.D.; any movement of an armed unit of more than ten men through any enemy's territory must be approved by the council."

"An approval like that could take weeks to negotiate," Landell sighed, leaning back in his chair and grinning at Clarke. "I told you it would be interesting, didn't I?"

"This is all amusing to you, isn't it?" Monty asked, glaring at Clarke. "Forcing people to accommodate your idealistic approach to life must really amuse you."

"It isn't," Clarke said, her voice low and dangerous. "I'm not the one standing on my pride here."

"Pride?" Monty asked, making Harper grab his arm and look at him.

"Monty, stop," she said, her eyes a mixture of pleading and danger. Monty only considered them before sitting back in his chair, the uneasy atmosphere around them slowly dissipating. Harper kept her hand on his arm, turning back to Clarke. "Listen, we get that finding out who attacked Bellamy is important. We all want to know who it was because frankly, we don't want to be next. But coming in here, using your influence right-off-the-bat, to force us to embrace your peaceful fantasy, isn't the best way to get us to cooperate."

"It is, actually," Clarke said, making Wells and Landell both look at each other. "You just don't get it so I'll explain it simply. We want to help you, we want to become friends, and we want to find out who is plotting against a future council member and heir to the Blake family. It may be unfamiliar, suspicious, and slightly annoying but I assure you, it is better than the alternative of civil war."

"This isn't how business is done," Bellamy said, looking directly at her. "You're stubborn and smart but you have no idea what this means."

"You're all intent on keeping this ridiculous rivalry in-tact, aren't you?" Landell asked, looking between Bellamy, Harper, and Monty. "Personally, I don't care for any of you. You're prideful, cunning, arrogant, and uncooperative; traits like these overcomplicate simple matters. They upset the natural balance."

"Landell," Clarke said, looking over at him. He only grinned sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders. "What he means to say is, why are you so intent on hating us? Do you honestly not understand that a peaceful relationship between our families could mean the greatest human development in over two hundred years? We could expand beyond our borders, truly reinvent the entire coalition. Our ancestors inherited this earth when it was all but destroyed; why don't we work together to rebuild it?"

"Because, forty-one years ago, my great grandfather, his eldest son, and youngest daughter were all murdered by the Griffin family," Monty said, his anger boiling over. "You talk of peace but that is all it is! Talk! You preach these ideas at people, expecting them to see the brilliance behind it without considering the truth behind their distrust and hatred. You think betrayals like that can be easily forgiven, or forgotten, but they won't! That isn't how the real world works and I refuse to be caught up in another Griffin scheme that could ruin everything my family has worked so hard to build. I refuse!"

"Is that really how you feel?" Clarke asked, her eyes wide. "Monty, listen to me. I had no control over such events, nor did my father. I don't deny that my grandfather hated your families, despised the idea of sharing this world with you, but that was never my view. Don't you understand? None of us wants our children growing up in a world like this one, constantly at odds with one another, forced to use others for their own gain. That isn't what I see for my future, or the future of Arkadia."

"That doesn't change the fact that I cannot trust your family," Monty said, his eyes dark. "My grandfather told me stories about how his older brother and sister were murdered. They were at the Green estate in the north when it happened; ten armed men came barreling into the house, killing all the guards that stood watch. My grandfather hid while his brother and sister distracted the men, giving their own lives for him. Do you know what that is like? Growing up knowing the only reason you have your place in this world is because your own siblings sacrificed themselves for you?"

"I don't," Clarke said, her voice low and tight. "But I would have done the same thing for any one of my siblings."

"But you don't have any, do you?" Monty pressed, Bellamy watching Clarke's reaction closely. He wasn't going to help her on this. She'd decided to confront them with this scheme and Bellamy was going to let her muddle through it. He knew, as well as Harper, that once Monty was onto something, he didn't stop. He wasn't going to give in and let Clarke walk away from his judgements or his accusations. Not when she'd entered this negotiation knowing full-well that things would go her way; that kind of arrogance infuriated Monty to no end.

"I don't," she confessed her eyes never leaving his. "But I would do anything for someone that I loved and I know you feel the same way. If I were to threaten Harper right now, in front of everyone, you'd have your hands around my neck quicker than anyone could stop you. That, Monty, is who you are. Your loved ones mean just as much to you as mine to me."

"It's his best feature," Harper said, looking at Clarke. "And you're right, we all feel the same way when it comes to our families. They mean the world to us, no matter their wrongdoings. I think, in this respect, we can agree that we are all the same."

"Then can we agree to terms, here?" Wells asked, looking between the five of them. "In the spirit of peace and trust, I propose we drop the number of troops sent to guard the shipments. Instead of fifty, we'll send thirty and they'll only be escorting the materials. They will follow preapproved routes and will check in along the way. This way, we can still devote enough man power to a joint effort between our families to find out more about the attack."

"And the tax on Green's wheat and soy beans?" Bellamy asked, eyeing Wells.

"I consent to lowering it to six percent for a period of three years," Wells reasoned, a smile on his face. "Business is business, after all…"

"Agreed," Landell said, smiling at the two of them. "This meeting has drug on long enough and I think there is more heat in this room than outside. Let's confirm and be on our way."

"I agree," Clarke said, smiling up at Landell.

"So, to be clear," Wells said, looking between the three of them, writing something down in the portfolio in front of him. "The Jaha Keller Engineering Corporation will purchase fifty tons of steel from the McIntyre and Blake mines. They will also give the Green family a 29% discount on their timber purchase with the 3,000-silver contribution to worker's wages. As agreed upon, you will also receive a tax deduction of 6% for a period of no shorter than 3 years on all grain and soy bean exports to Jaha, Keller, and Chandler holdings."

"In exchange," Harper continued, looking down at the portfolio in front of her. "The McIntyre, Blake, and Green families give their consent to the Jaha and Keller Corporation to begin the expansion of the western portion of the wall. The Green family will pay 3,000 gold toward he wages of the workers hired for the hauling of raw materials. The Green and Blake families will also agree to allow thirty Pike militia men onto their land to escort the materials. We also consent to the joint-force action to investigate the attack on the Blake family."

"It seems we have an agreement," Monty said, standing from the chair. He strode from the room now, opening the door quickly and disappearing into the hall outside, making the five of them look at one another with sheepish grins.

"He can be stubborn, sometimes," Harper explained, looking at Clarke. "He knows you had nothing to do with it. He's just mad because you don't seem to care."

"I do care," Clarke said, her eyes wide. "I care because I don't ever want a repeat of such a disgusting and unforgivable act. I am trying to prevent it using every method I can."

"I'm glad to see it," Harper sighed, glancing over at Wells. "And you, good sir, are a shrewd negotiator. It's not often I see you truly push for something in these meetings but this time, I'm glad you did. I may not be fully convinced that Clarke's peaceful agenda will work, but I'm willing to try."

"That's exactly what I told her," Landell smiled, looking over at Clarke. "But she's quite convincing when she wants to be."

"I'm just glad we could come to a quick agreement," Wells smiled, shutting the portfolio in front of him. "I honestly expected us to be arguing up until one of us got hungry enough to give in."

"Monty just needs time to consider the changes," Harper sighed, glancing at the door. "I'm going to go talk to him. It was nice seeing you all, though." Harper only smiled down at Clarke, glancing at Bellamy who was still rooted in his chair, deep in thought. She left the room quietly and Landell couldn't help but chuckle, catching Clarke's eye again.

"This meeting was more lively than usual," he noted, leaning his elbow on the table and turning fully toward her. "What do you say to some lunch? You don't have to work this afternoon, do you?"

"No, I got it off for this," she smiled, still looking up into his smiling face.

"Good, I think I have the perfect idea," he said, standing up. "Wells, it was good seeing you again. Let me know the next time you're in the mood for a hunt. I'd be happy to have you come along."

"It's only on rare occasions that I hunt," Wells smiled. "I'm decent with a bow but the spear isn't my strong suit."

"Any time you'd like to visit, you're welcome," he nodded, looking over at Bellamy now, as Clarke stood up beside him. "And you take it easy, alright? I don't want to see you forced to give up the arena because of your injury. I look forward to your fights every year."

"I'd never give it up," Bellamy said, pulling himself from his thoughts and looking at Landell. "But it was good to see you all again. It seems I was wise to attend this meeting."

"I don't think it would have went so smoothly without you, honestly," Wells laughed, making Landell and Clarke smile.

"Monty trusts me," Bellamy nodded, moving to stand. "I think we made the right call."

"Then let's get out of here and enjoy the rest of the day," Landell chuckled, motioning toward the door.

"Could I have a word with you, though?" Bellamy asked, looking directly at Clarke. For the first time that morning, she'd looked directly at him, her blue eyes almost drowning him in surprise. "If you have a minute?"

"Y-yeah," Clarke said, turning back to Landell who was waiting near the door, Wells opening it slowly for them. "I'll be just a minute."

Landell only nodded, following Wells with a reassuring smile. Once the door had shut, Bellamy could feel her apprehension and confusion fill the room, making him step around the end of the table toward her. She mirrored him, stepping toward him as he approached, her eyes never leaving his.

"Listen," she sighed, looking a bit sheepish. "I didn't mean to– "

Bellamy didn't give her a moment to speak, a moment to think. Instead, he followed his instincts, the emotions swirling around in him like smoke from a blazing fire. It was burning him, watching her smile and flirt with another man and he needed her to know that he hadn't given up. He needed her to understand that no matter what she believed, these feelings weren't just going to go away. He wrapped his good arm around her, pulling her flush against him and gently caressed her cheek with his injured hand, pulling it from the sling slowly. She looked up at him in shock, her eyes wide and her lip quivering as he watched her. She wanted to say something, to tell him to stop, but something stopped her. Bellamy didn't know what to say, or how to say it, but he knew she'd never fully understand with words. Clarke, like Bellamy, was moved by action. So, without hesitation he leaned down and captured her lips in a heated and desperate kiss. He'd never kissed someone like this before, not with this much urgency and raw emotion.

He knew she could sense it too, her eyes immediately softening as the kiss deepened, one hand going up his shoulder to grasp at his collar, the other into his already messy black waves. Bellamy needed for her to feel what he was feeling, to understand what was in his mind and the desperate way he suckled at her lips, teased her tongue, and held her to his body had conveyed everything he'd meant to say to her. It was as if time itself was standing still and the only person in his world was Clarke. Her eyes drifted shut and her soft heated breaths sent chills down Bellamy's spine. He loved touching her, holding her, and hearing that uncontrollable purring in her throat as he pulled her closer. A desperate gasp arose from her lips and he smirked, trailing luscious and lingering kisses down her neck, over the amazingly erotic outfit she had on. He quickly unbuttoned the top button, pulling the dress open to reveal her soft milky flesh. He couldn't control himself and allowed his lips to stray down her jaw, over her neck, and suckle gently on the clavicle, making her gasp in surprise. His tongue darted out and his hand immediately trailed down her back to her bottom, pulling her even closer to him. He could feel the redness from her cheeks and chest as he kissed her neck, desperate to leave his mark.

"S-stop," she whispered, pushing him away gently. Bellamy leaned back now, taking in the site of Clarke's open dress and flushed cheeks.

"I'm sorry," he replied, taking a full step back and letting go of her. "I couldn't resist… you're so beautiful." He was obviously admiring the entire outfit, more scenarios popping into his mind making every nerve in his body feel like he was a tightly coiled spring.

"It's alright,' she replied, regaining her composure and buttoning the top button back up, smoothing the dress. "W-what did you want to talk to me about?"

"Oh," he said, feeling a blush come to his cheek as she looked at him. "I… honestly don't know. I just wanted you to know that you look beautiful today. I'm sorry… I shouldn't have kissed you again."

"You could have asked," she whispered, sounding a bit breathless. "But I'm not offended. I…" She paused here and Bellamy couldn't help but smile at her, feeling a bit sheepish.

"I guess I just wanted to kiss you," Bellamy replied, making her look up at him again. "You were right, after all. I am quite envious of Landell right now. If he hadn't asked you already, I'd invite you to lunch with me."

"You were just hoping for a repeat of the other night," Clarke smiled, her eyes alight as she stared up at him. "Are you really jealous?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Jealous that he asked you to lunch first," Bellamy smirked, moving close to her again. "Not so jealous of the rest. He can try all he wants but I've always been a confident guy."

Clarke just stared at him incredulously before smirking, standing on her tip-toes and kissing his cheek, making Bellamy's heart skip a beat. He looked down at her with amusement before she leaned up again, this time capturing his lips with her own, sending Bellamy over the edge. Not only had she initiated the kiss, she was enjoying it, grasping his collar again. After a moment of her lips gently teasing and caressing his, she leaned back, placing a hand on his cheek.

"You have some ego, Bellamy Blake," she commented, turning from him now. "It'll only get you so far."

Before he had time to protest, or say anything else, she'd opened the door and disappeared, flashing him a seductive smile. In those few moments, Bellamy had experienced an upheaval of emotions he never thought possible. It was almost burning him to feel like this, ready to race after her, gather her into his arms, and keep her all to himself. He had to stop himself from sprinting from the room, stepping out into the hall to see Clarke's arm wrapped firmly around Landell's, a smile on her beautiful face. Before they'd turned the corner down the hall toward the main entrance, she spotted him, her eyes full of curiosity and playfulness. She'd gotten to him this time and Bellamy was admiring the handiwork of the woman who, with a single touch, unraveled his entire world.

* * *

"I'm glad you decided to have lunch with me," Landell said, looking at Clarke over his mug of ale. "I was hoping to persuade you to come with me on a ride; it's a fine a day."

"A ride to where?" Clarke asked, a little too excitedly. She had been completely engrossed in their conversations at lunch and felt almost elated at the idea of doing something so fun.

"Do you have experience with horses?" Landell asked, setting aside his beer mug. He eyed her curiously before leaning toward her, his elbows on the table in front of them. The sunshine gleamed through canvas awning above them as they enjoyed the light breeze and busy shopping district around them. Clarke smiled at the mischief in this eyes and the grin on his lips before replying.

"I've ridden many times before," Clarke nodded, looking at the people that passed by the small diner's patio. "My grandfather often rode with me as a girl."

"So, let's leave the city and go riding. It isn't even noon yet," Landell offered, placing a couple silver coins on the table and standing. "We can ride west and I'll show you some of my favorite riding scenery."

"I'd really like that," Clarke nodded, moving to stand as well. "But I'm not exactly dressed for riding and I don't think it safe to leave Arkadia with an assassin on the loose."

"You have a fair point," he chuckled, motioning for her to follow him as they made their way down the street. "But I'll have my personal guard with me and we can stay close to the walls, exploring the forest just outside the gates. There is a spectacular ravine to view."

"That does sound fun," Clarke commented, thinking about the date she'd had with Jon.

"How about we meet at the western gate in an hour?"

"Agreed," Clarke chuckled, placing a hand on his arm. He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her cheek before offering her his arm.

"I'll escort you to your villa," he nodded, smiling widely as she took his arm. "It's the least I can do. I must admit, I thought that proposal of yours earlier was going to fold entirely. How did you know it wouldn't?"

"I told you to trust me," Clarke smiled, squeezing her arm. "I knew for a fact that if the three of us stood firmly behind it, they'd agree. I also knew that they wouldn't be happy about it but that's just how it goes."

"For someone so determined to take the high road," he commented, smirking down at her as they moved through the streams of people around them. "You certainly don't seem to mind the mess."

"This world is messy," Clarke nodded, smiling up at him. "And you know that I'm not a fool. I was willing to gamble on this proposal, even though I was confident it'd work."

"You're quite the negotiator," he chuckled, looking back up the road ahead of them as they turned up the wide avenue the Griffin villa resided on. "I'll admit, when I first met you I thought you were somewhat naïve and a bit foolish but now, I think I owe you an apology."

"Not necessary," she replied, her voice soft as she spoke. "I honestly wasn't sure about you either. You had many redeeming qualities but I worried you'd find my peaceful agenda to be… silly."

"I'm a reasonably intelligent man," Landell assured, the tone of his voice jovial. "I may be simple but I do know how to concede an argument. I didn't agree with the idea of working with the Blake family or their affinity but now, I think it is the only way to really secure Arkadia's future."

"That's all I ask for," Clarke nodded, glancing back up at him. "A chance to prove it could work."

They walked up the street now, arm-in-arm, enjoying the warm midday sun and soft breeze that flitted through the trees and bushes that lined the avenue. Clarke couldn't help but let herself sink into her own thoughts as they walked. She wasn't sure what to do. That morning she was intent on focusing entirely on Landell, getting to know him and understand what he would expect, should he marry. She wanted to know more about him because no matter how hard she tried, she kept comparing him to Bellamy. It wasn't fair to her and it wasn't fair to Landell; he was a smart, funny, plainspoken man who deserved to be appreciated for who he was. However, all Clarke could do was wonder if he could do the same things as Bellamy. Could he play music? Challenge her? What kind of books was he into? What kind of family did he have? Everything that Clarke already knew about Bellamy she wanted to know about Landell which made her feel ashamed of herself. Comparing them side-by-side like a couple of prized pieces of art wasn't going to help her decision. She'd also been bothered by the fact that that morning, Jon hadn't responded to her message. She was hoping he'd update her on the progress of the lounge but she hadn't heard from him in a couple days.

It wasn't long before they'd crested the hill and were standing in front of the villa, Landell gently pulling his arm from hers. She was about to turn and open the gate when she felt his larger hand grasp her wrist. Clarke turned to face him now, his other hand grasping her other wrist as she did, making her smile widely. He had a grin on his face but it was a shy one, the apprehension in his eyes making her wonder what he was going to say. She could see he was working up to something and Clarke could only guess what it could be; she had a good idea. When Clarke arrived that morning at the embassy he was both shocked and thrilled to see her. She had no idea that Landell knew she was coming so his tight embrace and gleeful attitude that morning was a bit of a shock.

"Listen," he said, his voice a little unsure. "I don't know how to put this so I'm just going to come out and say it. I know you're looking for suitors and my family has been pressuring me to consider a match as well. I don't want you to get mad or be offended but I was hoping that you could understand my feelings toward such an arrangement. I was hoping, you'd let me explain." Clarke only nodded at him, a soft smile still on her lips. She knew him to be a straight forward man who didn't like complication; she appreciated this immensely.

"I don't want you to think I'm doing this for advantage or convenience," he assured, watching her closely as he held her hands in his. "I don't know you well enough to say for sure that I want to marry you but I do know that you've caught my attention. In the past, I've dated women who, I considered, to be intelligent and compassionate and that was my one problem. I always assumed their compassion was true love. I've let myself get hurt and I've understood the importance of honesty ever since because I never want to find myself in such a situation again. That is why, against all dating conventions, I've decided to tell you these things. I am earnestly hoping you will consider that before you consider me."

"I wholeheartedly understand you," Clarke smiled, squeezing his fingers. "You and I are alike in some ways. Though I've never loved before, or felt heartbreak, I still want to love the man I marry. I think, in that simple desire, we are alike. If I could take the time to fall in love like most people do, I would."

"So, you aren't offended?" he asked, eyeing her gently. "Or disappointed?"

"How could I be?" she asked, lacing her fingers with his. "Marriage is meant to be about love, no matter who it is."

Clarke could see the smile spreading across his face and before should say anymore, his lips her gently pressed to hers. His long and slender fingers were wrapped around hers tightly and the gentle way in which he suckled and caressed her lips with his own, sent chills down Clarke's spine. He let go of her hand slowly, bringing it around to hold the small of her back, molding her against him softly. The way his tongue darted out softly to tease her bottom lip made her hum in response, urging him to continue. He did so, tentatively meeting her tongue with his; there were sparks behind her eyes and she loved the feel of his tall muscular frame engulfing her in a tight embrace. It wasn't long until both were breathing heavily, Clarke's cheek resting against his chest as they steadied themselves. She could feel the gentle circles Landell was tracing on her back and the warmth from his hand still interlocked with hers rooted her to the earth. She felt like she would float away if he let her go and when he stepped back, removing his arm from around her, she sighed, biting her lip bashfully.

"I'll see you soon," he assured, placing his free hand on her cheek, making her look up at him. "We can take a long ride and enjoy the day together; just the two of us."

Clarke only nodded and before he left, he placed another gentle kiss on her lips. She noticed the twinkle in his amber eyes as he left, waving happily at her as he made his way towards his own home to make ready. Clarke quickly went inside after he'd disappeared, making her way up to her room to change. She was done changing within minutes, wearing a simple pair of black leggings, a long blue tunic, and a pair of leather riding boots. She examined herself in the mirror one more time, tying her hair up on her head in a simple tail before throwing on her black and gray cloak. When she went back downstairs, she noticed that there was some commotion coming from the kitchens. Clarke made her way through the atrium and into the dining hall, finding the set of stairs that lead down into the servant's workspaces and sleeping quarters. She stood there silently, listening as the noises from below continued. It sounded like clanking, like they were beating heavy metals together, but it also sounded like they could have been hammering at stone. It was a somewhat loud noise that echoed through the entire house.

She dismissed the noise after a moment, making her way down the stairs and out into the courtyard. The stables were a separate building alongside the kitchens and storehouses and when Clarke entered, she was surprised to see that the old master of horses, Mr. Williams, wasn't there. He had a tiny office, big enough for a desk and chair, but Clarke didn't spot him in there either. She didn't mind that much but she honestly had no idea where the saddles were stored. She made her way down the row, horse stalls on either side of her housing some of the prettiest animals she'd ever seen. Her horse, Kahl, was the most beautiful of them all. He was a tall black and gray horse with a long gray main and a speed to outrun all others. She got him as a colt when she was only nine years old but growing up with him, learning to properly ride him, was the thrill of her childhood.

She and her grandfather would go riding through the park every week and he'd show her the trick to properly taking care of them. He even taught her how to jump logs and branches and maneuver through water and marshes. She treasured the time she spent with her grandfather and every time she saw Kahl, she was reminded of the fun they'd had together. Since her grandfather's passing, she hadn't ridden much; the stable master would ride him for her but it had been a while since she herself had been riding. When she reached his stall, she was amused to see him hungrily chewing on some apples. She called out to him gently, his ears flicking backward before turning to look at her. His big black eyes spotted her and his gray silken nostrils flared, allowing her to gently pat his snout. Clarke knew from a young age that horses could sense the fear in someone and her grandfather had taught her since day one never to fear Kahl.

"Hello, old friend," she whispered, pressing her forehead to his long nose. "Want to ride today?"

The horse just stood there, happily munching its piece of apple as Clarke ran her hand over its cheek and neck. She noticed that the saddle was strung up on the wall of the stall and immediately she slipped inside, latching the gate behind her. After brushing Kahl down, and feeding him more apples, she was able to strap the saddle onto his back. She made sure it was good and tight before taking the reins and leading him through the stable and into the courtyard. She still hadn't spotted the stable master, which was odd, because at least one of the stable boys should have been around to attend her. What was more was that she didn't notice any more servants after she'd entered the house either. When she'd come back downstairs the atrium and dining hall had been emptied.

After she'd mounted Kahl she glanced over at the kitchen windows. The glare from the sun was bright but it was that loud clanking and pounding noise she was listening for. She couldn't hear it out here, even though the windows were open all around the large room. She shrugged at this, urging Kahl to move forward down the lane and to the main gates where the cars and horses usually came in, along with any supplies or goods the servants needed. She swayed with Kahl as he walked down the lane and out onto the main road. She steered him down the hill toward the market square, cutting across a side street and into an alley that would take her out onto west avenue. She would be a little early but she figured Landell was probably already waiting. As she pulled the reins, making Kahl turn the corner toward the main road again, she heard a clacking noise. She looked about for what it could be, seeing no one in the alley with her or in the narrow doorways that lead into the small homes and shops. She turned back toward the road at that moment and heard a familiar voice call her name, rounding on the unexpected visitor with curiosity and confusion.

* * *

"Can I have a word?" Bellamy asked, shutting his father's office door behind him.

"What's on your mind? How did the meeting go? Did you kids work out a deal?" Kayden asked, sitting leisurely behind his large desk. The office, unlike the one at their villa, was smaller and only had one large window.

"I wish you wouldn't call us that," Bellamy sighed, sitting down in one of the comfortable chairs across from his father. "We're not really kids anymore."

"You're right," Kayden drawled, leaning forward and folding his hands on the desk. "I guess I can't baby you forever, can I? Tell me then, what terms did you settle on?"

Bellamy handed him the freshly copied contract from his jacket pocket and leaned back, waiting for his father to take in the enormity of the settlement. His father wouldn't be happy and Bellamy had prepared for that the moment he decided to agree to the terms. After reading over the contract, Kayden set it down, looking at it closely for a second time, his eyes darting across the pages.

"And you felt these terms were fair?"

"It was the only settlement we could reach," Bellamy said, his voice low and level. "Clarke played us."

"Clarke Griffin?" he asked, his voice rising as he spoke. "Clarke Griffin was part of the negotiations?"

"I had no idea until right before the meeting," Bellamy sighed, leaning forward and pouring himself a small glass of his father's brandy. He took a sip and watched his father's face as he gazed back over the copy. "They were agreeable to the terms we offered but pressed for further advantage. As you can see, the scales are balanced now."

"Why would you allow this?" Kayden asked, his dark eyes meeting Bellamy's. "Thirty, armed, Pike soldiers are going to be marching freely through Blake and Green territories and you consented?"

"Would you rather I refused and have the council vote on official military measures?" Bellamy asked, glancing down at the paper. "We've already wasted three months and they aren't freely roaming to pillage and reave. You don't think I'll have our own men out there, guarding and patrolling as well?"

"We cannot afford to stretch our forces thin, especially at our northern mines and factories," Kayden ground out, his fists clenched on the desk. "Why are they truly intervening? It says 'in a joint effort' but what's the real angle they're working?"

"It's all Clarke Griffin's doing," Bellamy said, his voice softer. "She is forcing us to cooperate for the greater good."

"She what?" his father asked, a look of rage and confusion striking his features. "She's forcing cooperation? Just who does this girl think she is? This is Jake's doing, I know it. He is involved somehow…"

"I'm sure it was his idea to send Clarke to the meeting today," Bellamy agreed, taking another sip of the brandy. "And I'm sure she is completely aware of the fact that our position is a… delicate one. That is why she knew she could propose this now, convince her side to stand firm, and make us back down. She has no experience with business but you cannot deny that she's a natural…"

"Weren't you supposed to be wooing her?" Kayden asked, a confused look in his eye. "I can see that bridge slowly collapsing and we need to act fast. You're lucky I've taken this into account and brokered with Azgeda. There is no way to back out of this deal but if we act now, we can still gain an advantage."

"That's precisely what I wanted to talk to you about," Bellamy said, his father's thoughts racing as he sat there, mulling over the possibilities.

"Good," Kayden nodded, standing up. "I've arranged for the Azgeda delegation to stay with us in a few weeks before the coalition summit. Travelling with the ambassadors and emissaries are the two royal siblings. The prince, Roan, is almost six years older than you, I believe. He will be escorting his youngest sister to Arkadia as their first official visit. Tensions will be high but I think we can still use this to our advantage."

"Are you serious?" Bellamy asked, leaning back in his chair and staring doubtfully at his father. "We don't need to consider such actions. I have it under control."

"Clearly not," he snapped, Bellamy recoiling at the rage in his voice. Kayden noticed because he let out a long breath and sat back down, running a hand through his messy black hair. "Listen, I'm all for wiping out the Griffin's with marriage. It's the cleanest way to do it but our time is running up."

"Just give me a little more time," Bellamy insisted, looking over at his father sharply. "Do you honestly think this is easy for me, for anyone?"

"What time do you think I can give you? In three weeks, the delegation from the commander will be here," his father reasoned, watching Bellamy closely. "In that time, Pike militia will be marching through our land as well as the other family's soldiers to find out who attacked you. You're still stuck in that sling too, unable to ride properly so your involvement in this expedition will be limited. What time do you think you have?"

"Just enough," Bellamy replied, his eyes firmly on his father's face. "Things have gotten complicated and I can't just give up. Not now…"

"What happened?" Kayden asked, eyeing Bellamy closely.

"What if I could offer you another good match," Bellamy suggested, smirking over the desk at his father. "I may have an idea."

"Who?" Kayden asked, his eyes going wide. "Have you chosen someone else?"

"I haven't," Bellamy assured, his voice louder than he intended. "But if we need time, I know how to buy us some." Kayden just looked at Bellamy doubtfully, leaning back in his chair and sipping from the glass on the table. "Since we are sending out a team of mixed militia to find out who attacked me, most of the attention will be there. We will have the perfect opportunity to hint at a marriage arrangement between the Pike family and ours."

"I don't follow…"

"If we can just show a little interest in marrying Octavia to the youngest Pike boy, Terrance," Bellamy continued, watching his father's reaction. "We can aim to sew confusion and- "

"Your sister is far too young," Kayden warned, watching Bellamy. "And what reason would they possibly have to ally with us? This plan is a dead end, Bell; we need to just cut our loses and consider a powerful ally elsewhere."

"She won't actually get married!" Bellamy said, becoming a little irritated with his father's impatience. "We just feign interest on her behalf until I can officially ask for Clarke's hand. This way, if we wanted to seriously consider such a match in the future, it will already be approached. This kind of proposal along with the investigation will keep them completely distracted and confused while we do our own investigating. It will buy me the time I need to fully convince Clarke."

"What happened? A couple weeks ago, you weren't even considering this as a serious option," Kayden noted, looking over Bellamy slowly, considering his son closely. "Why are you pushing for this so hard?"

"I…" Bellamy paused, his voice trailing off as he thought about his father's question. He knew why he felt differently, why he wanted this to work so badly. It wasn't because he'd promised Clarke he wouldn't lose or that his family would gain the upper hand. It wasn't because he'd planned it that way and it certainly wasn't expected. He couldn't put words to this uncontrollable feeling welling up inside him, picturing her smile and the way her cheeks dimpled.

"I'm going to venture a guess," Kayden finally said, eyeing Bellamy's lost eyes. "You've fallen for the girl, haven't you?"

"Don't taunt me," Bellamy said, glaring up at him. "I didn't mean for anything like that to happen."

"But it did," Kayden said, his voice a mixture of horror, disappointment, and pity. Bellamy looked away from him now, becoming increasingly more interested with the drink in his hand. "Your mother might have mentioned…"

"I just need more time," Bellamy assured, glancing back up at him. "Just a little more…"

"I just can't risk it," Kayden said sternly, leaning back in his chair. He sighed softly, pinching the bridge of his nose before continuing, watching Bellamy's reaction closely. "Your sister is too young and it's too soon to make that kind of match for her. It would better benefit us to wait until we need the match. It's also foolish to wait on Clarke." At this Bellamy glared back up at him, the helplessness he was feeling almost spilling out. He could see his father's mild interest in his reaction but also saw the stubborn sternness that he regarded Bellamy with. "It's foolish to hope for a match from a woman who knows she'll be destroyed by such a choice. I won't risk it; we'll consider Princess Roya."

"You're seriously suggesting that the heir to your legacy marry a grounder princess?" Bellamy asked, his eyes wide. "Have you gone insane?"

"We have no other choice," Kayden said, his eyes still sternly locked on Bellamy. "I won't let this opportunity pass me by."

"I refuse," Bellamy said, moving to stand. "I've worked too hard and invested too much of myself into this match to give up now."

"You don't seem to understand," Kayden said, standing up and squaring his shoulders. "It's foolish and dangerous to pursue this match. It's time to come back to the real world and do what needs to be done for yourself and your family."

"I won't do it," Bellamy responded, his jaw set. "It's more than just a match for me anymore. Clarke is smart, kind, witty, bold, stubborn, and fierce; she's everything a Blake woman should be and I won't give that up. I won't lose her because of your ambitions."

"Grow up," Kayden growled, glaring down at Bellamy. For the first time in a very long time, his father was furious with him. Bellamy had never seen him so angry but he refused to back down. He felt like shrinking back and apologizing but he would never allow himself to do so. His father's anger didn't matter to him at that moment; only Clarke did. "Use your head and not your heart," Kayden continued, his brow furrowing in annoyance. "She'll never agree without the guarantee of a Griffin heir and I'll be damned if any of my descendants adopts that name."

"Why are you so stubborn about this?!" Bellamy asked, his voice dangerously angry. "What is so bad about waiting for her to agree? I've laid all the groundwork and I've gotten to know her in ways I never expected to. I know she feels something and is close to agreeing, so why are you so opposed to this?"

"Watch your tone, Bellamy," his father warned, still standing with squared shoulders and a stiff glare. "You know full-well why I am opposed to this. My only son and heir is being played by some Griffin plot and I won't allow it to happen any longer. You'll stop this association with Clarke Griffin, you'll organize our forces in the north to double their patrols, and you'll bring the rest of our affinity in on my new plan. If that isn't agreeable to you, I'd be happy to keep you under guard until you come to your senses. Do I make myself clear?"

Bellamy stood there baffled, completely thrown off by his father's immediate suspicion and aggressive reprimand. Bellamy realized it was his own fault; he'd never meant to fall for Clarke or agree to her terms but somehow, he'd allowed himself to love her all the same. He'd allowed himself to feel something for an enemy who, he knew full well, wouldn't hesitate to use him to her advantage. She'd said time and time again that she was fair, overt, and unwilling to play their family's games. However, she was a natural at it; no matter the problem that came her way she handled it with care and calculation far surpassing that of any diplomat or councilman alive today. Bellamy had fallen for that smart and attractively dominant woman inside Clarke and immediately regretted it. What if she had been playing them the entire time?

"I said," his father repeated, his voice low and cross. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes," Bellamy spat, his eyes not meeting his father's.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, father."

* * *

 **Plans are** **unraveling** **! Not entirely unexpected but wait... there is more! Thanks for reading. Please review.**


	17. Chapter 17: Connection Failure

**"To weep is to make less the depth of grief." - Shakespeare (Henry VI)**

* * *

"So, you've finally come to your senses about Clarke?" Monty asked, sitting in the comfortable office of Jon Murphy. Bellamy had left the embassy angry at not only his father's dominance but his own lack of care. He'd never even considered that, like him, Clarke was playing a more complicated game. He never even suspected that she was disingenuous with her actions. She'd proven, time and time again, that she was sympathetic to Bellamy's problems, his family, and the overall welfare of Arkadia. The thought had never crossed his mind that she might be telling him exactly what he wants to hear.

"What's this all about?" Jon asked, sitting behind his desk comfortably. Bellamy was furious that afternoon and he knew that Jon's renovated casino and club was the only place he, and his friends, could speak plainly.

"I'm just glad we get to see the casino before it opens," Jasper smirked, making Harper chuckle. "The renovations and décor are astounding so far. Why two desks, though?"

Bellamy noticed that Jon's office was elegantly decorated. A sleek wooden floor matched the dark trim around the room. The opaque window looking down over the gaming tables was also impressive, framed in a finely carved wooden sill. The room didn't have a high ceiling so the lighting was from bulbs that faced upward, making the room look bigger than it was. It housed a small lounging area in the center with a couch and couple of plush chairs and there were also two desks, one on each wall.

"I need a drink," Jon said, ignoring Jasper and standing up, walking over to the small wet-bar. "Anyone else want one?"

"So why did you want us to meet here?" Monty asked, eyeing Bellamy and Jon across the room. Harper and he were sitting on the couch and Jasper was lounging in the chair next to them.

"I'd like to know the same thing," Jon pipped, pouring himself a scotch. "Why did you choose my humble venue as a stage for this little meeting?"

"My father has made up his mind on what to do," Bellamy said, sitting down in the open seat. He felt exhausted and entirely unsure on how to spin this. His father wanted something that Bellamy wasn't sure he could get. Not to mention, it was more than a little dangerous. "He's convinced that a match between myself and Clarke isn't a viable option," Bellamy continued, massaging the bridge of his nose while uncomfortably adjusting his sling. "He suspects she's playing a game with us and that today's agreement at the embassy initiated the first move on the board. Therefore, he wants me to bring everyone in on the plan. He wants you, as the representatives of your families, to convey his plan to your parents."

"And what plan would this be?" Harper asked, leaning toward Bellamy curiously.

"He's invited the Azgeda delegation to our home once they arrive for the upcoming summit," Bellamy began, eyeing each of them as Jon moved back across the room toward his desk. "In that delegation is going to be prince Roan and his youngest sister, Roya of Azgeda. She, like me, is looking for an ideal match. My father thinks that this is the way to finally overcome Jake and his faction. He seems to be dead-set on it and so far, as I can tell, we're out of options."

"That's ridiculous," Harper said, her eyes narrowed, Monty immediately grimacing at her reaction. "The only male heir of the Blake line can't marry some grounder princess. Doesn't your father understand what that means?"

"This is far from my ideal plan as well," Bellamy groaned, glancing over at Jasper who had a bewildered, but amused, look on his face.

"And you're okay with giving up your pursuit of Clarke?" Jon asked, sitting in his chair again.

"Honestly?" Bellamy sighed, leaning back in his chair lazily. "I'm not."

"This is the breakdown of Arkadian unity," Harper said, leaning back with an almost dazed expression. "Allowing a grounder princess to have a say in our political agenda and proceedings is completely unprecedented. Not even The Commander in Polis has that kind of influence. What's worse is that it is Azgeda… Bellamy, you'd be Ice Nation royalty."

"I'm sure it'd just be nobility, at best," Monty said, taking her hand. "They have war chiefs and a mostly absolute monarchy. Bellamy and Roya would be third in line for the throne after Roan, unless he has children."

"Are we really talking about this?" Jasper asked, glancing at Bellamy. "Bellamy Blake: King of Azgeda?"

"I really don't have a choice in the matter, and neither do any of you," Bellamy groaned. "All of our money comes from shared contracts, lands, titles, family alliances, and trading deals. I'm too tired and honestly overwhelmed to even contemplate how to properly threaten you if you leak this secret. This isn't from me anyway; if I had my way, I'd have Clarke as my wife as soon as she agreed."

"So why are you going along with this?" Jon asked, eyeing him as the others were. "Why are you just going along with this, without a fight?"

"Because, I realized that I don't know a thing about Clarke Griffin," Bellamy said, his voice tight. "I thought I knew but it never occurred to me that she might actually know what she's doing. I could have been playing right into her plan and never known it."

"You don't honestly believe that," Jon commented, making Bellamy's gaze snap to him. "I've known you for a long time and deep down, you don't believe Clarke is trying to hurt you. I can see it in your eyes, in the way you're approaching this whole situation. You've fallen for Clarke Griffin, Bellamy Blake."

"Look at the way he's considering it," Jasper added, a smirk on his face as he leaned forward. "He knows how he feels; he's just too stubborn to admit it to himself, let alone anyone else."

"They're perfect for one another," Harper said, her voice still distant, working out Bellamy's words in her head.

"All of you are completely insane," Monty said, his eyes narrowed. "What the fuck is wrong with you all? Oh, it's so cute!" he mocked, waving his hands in the air. He was almost livid, his voice stern and reproachful. "Our Bellamy has fallen for the Griffin princess! How cute! Now we can frolic through the fields, be all peaceful, maybe have a few more weddings. Hey, Jon, Raven's sister is unwed and so his Jaha's three nieces. Which one you picking? I'm stuck with a McIntyre over here so I'm a little behind the times…" Harper nudged him angrily and he groaned, moving to stand.

"I'm sorry I'm not on the peaceful agenda bandwagon," Monty said, looking down at Harper. "But this is foolish. What fantasy world are you people living in? The second we decide that there is no rivalry, that there is no one representing the dissenting opinions in Azgeda, is when we lose it all. How long until the common workers, merchants, and journeymen rise because their views aren't being represented in council? What distinguishes us from a dictatorship?"

"Monty," Harper said, her voice soft and apologetic. "I never really considered what that meant to you, to all of us…"

"That's right, none of you have!" Monty groaned, massaging his temple. "You can't just decide suddenly that there's only one set of interests in Arkadia. You just can't shut people down like that and expect a peaceful resolution. It's so stupid it's almost inconceivable, especially coming from you!" Monty had turned on Bellamy now, not willing to stand down just yet even though Bellamy was clearly exhausted. "What the hell are you thinking? Playing these kinds of games with something so important. You do realize we are on the verge of truly establishing Arkadia as a powerful nation amongst the clans, finally recognizing our dominance and ownership of these lands?"

"What do you want me to say, Monty?" Bellamy asked, his eyes narrowing on the inflamed teen in front of him. "I didn't account for that. I only saw what would benefit us more; marrying Clarke guarantees that the Griffin name doesn't continue. It is the most effective way to secure the rise of not only our families, but the common people you so adamantly worry about."

"So, do what needs to be done now," Monty argued, his voice dripping with irritation. "Marry the Azgeda princess, stay in Arkadia with the might of the entire Ice Nation army at your back as well as their allies. Force the Griffins into submission and make them pay for the deaths of our ancestors. What more could you need? You'd go down in human history as the first Arkadian king!"

"Weren't there already Arkadian kings on earth before?" Jasper asked, looking at Jon with a slight grin and an agape mouth.

"Akkadian," Jon replied, taking another drink of his scotch. "And I'm not sure if that was real; you might be referring to a movie or-."

"That's right!" Jasper laughed, turning back to the bewildered and frustrated stare of Monty as Bellamy just sat there, trying not to smirk. "Scorpion King! You can get a tattoo…"

"Would you shut up," Monty spat, turning back to Bellamy. "Are you really ungrateful for this opportunity? The first Arkadian King could be a Blake and you're about as enthusiastic as a wet cat."

"What the hell do you want me to say?" Bellamy replied, getting irritated. "That's the plan. I don't like it but I'm not going to stop it. I've run out of time and this injury hasn't really accelerated the romance. Not to mention, I doubt she'd have chosen me at all, even if I did have the time to find out."

"At least your common sense has returned," Monty commented, moving to the bar now. He poured himself a large glass of gin and downed it in one gulp, looking apologetically at Harper.

"A long habit of not thinking a thing wrong, gives it a superficial appearance of being right, and raises at first a formidable outcry in defense of custom," Bellamy said, his voice soft and stiff. "But the tumult soon subsides. Time makes more converts than reason."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harper asked, eyeing Bellamy with a curious smile.

"It's from _Common Sense_ by Thomas Paine," Bellamy sighed, resting his head on the comfortable backing of the plush chair. "It means, just because we think it is right, doesn't make it so. If I'd had more time, I could have proven that to you but now, that possibility has been far removed."

"What if it isn't," Jon commented, gaining all their attention. "What if I said that I may actually have an idea?"

"No," Monty immediately responded, sitting next to Harper again. "This is the greatest chance we are going to get at completely subduing them. Not to mention, I honestly think that a constitutional monarchy could work. Hindsight is twenty-twenty after all."

"I agree, that's why I think you should listen to my plan," Jon smirked, standing from the desk again, glass in hand. "What if I told you that you could arrange two diplomatic weddings, both highly advantageous to your family, all while getting exactly what you want?"

"I'm listening," Bellamy said, closing his eyes as he rested against the plush chair.

"You can convince Clarke to marry you and give her the ultimate opportunity to impose her peaceful agenda, convincing her that you're the one she needs," Jon said, smiling. "Don't get me wrong; Clarke and I have an understanding. A good friendship that I don't want to jeopardize. I'm just saying it would improve your chances if you gave her more incentive."

"Such as?" Monty scoffed, crossing his arms. "What are you suggesting?"

"Bellamy could offer her a marriage arrangement that guarantees the continuation of her line," Jon smiled, pouring himself another scotch. "You could offer her a kingdom."

"Excuse me?" Monty asked, immediately sounding irritated.

"I get it," Jasper grinned, motioning for Jon to pour him the same drink. "King Bellamy and Queen Clarke, the first dynasty of the of the Royal House of Arkadia. Impressive idea Murphy, I approve."

"I will never bow down to Clarke or any Griffin as my king or queen," Monty spat, immediately setting his jaw. "The Green family would never approve and I'd hope, neither would the McIntyre."

"I have to agree with Monty," Harper sighed, looking over at Jon as he handed Jasper his drink. "Constitutional monarchy, in theory, works. We could streamline roads, the military, the economy, and the expansion of our territory. However, it would have to truly be a representational monarchy. We'd have to ensure the commoners have a say in the way the law and the economy is regulated."

"That's not hard," Jon said, taking a drink from his glass. "We can keep the council intact. Instead of only six members, we'll expand it to twelve and include the smaller families like the Keller, Chandler, Montague, Patel, Hanzo and of course, Murphy. We'll keep it representative, allowing the monarchs to veto and have control of the military by a confirming vote from the council. We can hold elections where guild leaders, merchants, and smaller land owners and families have representatives on the council as well. It's a great way to keep the process efficient since we already have the foundations for-."

"Stop," Monty said, shaking his head. "I already said that I will never bow down to a Griffin king, and neither will my family."

"It would be a Blake king, at least until the main line dies out which is unlikely, given the number of male cousins and uncles Bellamy has," Jasper reasoned, looking over at Monty. "You've been talking about paying them back for what they did to your family for years but did you ever stop and think that maybe you don't need to? That the universe has somehow worked that out? I mean, they're down to their last Griffin heir and it's a woman."

"A woman who, if this plan works, will be a Blake queen," Jon smiled, tilting his glass at Bellamy who had opened his eyes to watch them. "As a concession, you could name your youngest heir, or heirs, Griffin and give them the Griffin estates and titles and spot on the council. If the Blake name should ever dwindle, you'll still have your own blood to continue it as you're doing for the Griffin now."

"This is all fine planning and interesting conjecture," Bellamy sighed, making Harper smirk. "But I don't know if Clarke will even go for this. She doesn't seem to be a monarchy type. Not to mention my father is emphatically against me marrying Clarke and is pushing this Azgeda agenda. I can't get out of it because whether I like it or not, I have a responsibility to my father, and my family. I can't risk it on what-ifs and hypotheticals."

"I think the second part of my proposal is more intriguing," Jon smirked. "I'll marry the princess of Azgeda."

"What?" Monty laughed, looking over at Jon with a genuine smile. "Really? You? Second in line to the throne of Azgeda? You've got to be joking?!" Monty was almost giggling at this plan, making Harper's look of surprise and amusement that much more comical.

"Your father supports your marriage and elevation as king with Clarke," Jon continued, ignoring Monty as Jasper looked up at him over his glass with amusement and awe. "And he supports my proposal to Azgeda. If he does this, I'll promise him that a Blake will be part of both monarchies and, I'll even sell him two of our ten forges for half price as well as my unfailing support in all the Blake dealings. As part of this plan, we can guarantee that our children, when the time comes, will become engaged, securing the armies of both Arkadia and Azgeda in the hands of a Blake heir."

"He'll get everything he wants and then some," Jasper noted, grinning at Bellamy. "It sounds like the best idea I've ever heard; I'm totally in."

"It could work," Bellamy said, his voice soft, a little too hopeful as he mulled over the idea. "An undoubted ally with the backing of Azgeda as well as an opportunity for his grandchildren to be Azgeda and Arkadian royalty couldn't be a better lure. The problem with this is he'd have to know Clarke's opinion; she'd have to consent before he'd agree to anything."

"That shouldn't be a problem," Jasper smirked, looking over at Bellamy. "She's obviously interested in you too. You're so alike you can't see how stubborn you each are. Need I remind your majesty that you're about as flexible as a diamond."

"Stop it," Bellamy said, shaking his head in disbelief. "There is no way I could get her to agree to a plan like this before the delegation shows up. I doubt she'd even favor the idea of a monarchy; she's all about fairness and straight forward approaches."

"I think it's possible," Jon nodded, finishing his drink and setting his glass back on the wet bar. "She may seem innocent, a little naïve, and a bit too nice but deep down, she's a shrewd woman. She knows the value of power, no matter how much she hates wielding it. She's good at it too, which puts her in a precarious position between humility and pride."

"Clarke wouldn't be a bad leader at all," Harper agreed, making Monty look at her incredulously. "It's true Monty. I'm good at reading people and she's just not that way. She's straight forward, kind, smart, talented, and ambitious. What more could we want from a potential leader?"

"I can't believe this," Monty groaned, leaning back on the couch, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. "What are you people thinking? Why are we back on this ridiculous subject?"

"You know it'll work," Harper said, her voice tight. This made Monty look directly at her and she continued, trying to make him understand. "The Griffin's are on their last heir who's a brilliant woman who just so happens to be interested in your oldest ally and friend. She's never done anything to you and she's never actively participated in politics. Stop standing on your pride and hatred because the man I love would see that this is the best way forward. One government, one leader, and one empire for all our people; everything you've ever imagined for our future. Take it before you miss your chance."

The room was silent now, all eyes tentatively watching Monty as he sat there, staring into Harper's face. They were both warring with one another, their eyes saying everything they needed to and it wasn't long until Monty let out a long sigh. He then turned to Bellamy, a stern but defeated look on his face.

"I'll support you on one condition," Monty insisted, his voice rigid. "You name me the council leader."

"If this works, you can hold whatever position you want," Bellamy chuckled, making a smile slowly pull at Monty's lips. "I'm just glad to have my friend on my side again."

"This is just madness," Monty sighed, looking over at Harper. "But I do see the advantages and the solutions it provides. So long as my king is a Blake, I'll never have reason to distrust."

"This is all hinging on Clarke's answer," Bellamy noted, making them all look a little more solemn. "She may reject me outright for the idea or she might agree to parts and disagree with others. If I had the time, I'd hash out more details but I don't. This is all depending on how I present the idea to her and I can guarantee, no matter how I spin it, she won't be keen right away."

"If she feels the same way as you do about her, I think she may just agree," Jasper said, finishing his drink. "Besides, her only other option is Landell Pike and his ambitions aren't nearly on par with hers."

"Not to mention you're more than willing to push for peace and the continuation of her family name," Harper smiled, taking Monty's hand gently.

"All of this trouble is for her," Bellamy confessed, his voice low, almost a whisper. "No matter what I do, I don't think I'll ever be able to understand how any of this happened. I didn't even know it'd happened until I'd crossed that line, never saw it coming. I expected to be intrigued by her but never so…" He trailed off, unable to truly sum up the way his heart raced for her or the way the picture of their future materialized so vividly in his mind.

"It's love," Jasper sighed, a goofy smile on his face. "Amour… such a confusing and intense feeling, isn't it?"

"So, what are we going to do about your dad?" Jon asked, leaning against his desk. "I mean, he expects us to tell our family about his plan. How do we do that with this new plan in play?"

"I'll go speak to him right now," Bellamy said, moving to stand, felling a little light headed. "I'll convince him to give me three more weeks to convince Clarke of this new plan. He won't dismiss it right away which will give me time as well."

"You look dead on your feet," Monty commented, eyeing him. "You sure you want to explain all of this and convince him to delay the plan?"

"I have to," Bellamy said, adjusting the sling as he turned toward the door. "We really don't have time for anything else right now."

Before Bellamy could make it to the door, there was a sharp knock on it. Jon stood straight from his desk now, crossing the room and opening the door to see a man in a leather jacket and shaved head. He had a look of panic in his eyes and before Jon could stop him, he was already bursting with the news he'd come here to convey.

"Clarke Griffin has gone missing," he said, making everyone in the room look at him. "I'm sorry Murphy but I've been instructed by Jacob Griffin himself. Have you seen her this afternoon?"

"What do you mean she's missing?" Jon asked, pulling the man into the room and shutting the door. "What happened Ban?"

"I don't know all the details," he confessed, looking at all the people in the room. "Thelonious sent me a message that said I was needed at the Griffin residence. When I got there, Jake and Abby Griffin were beside themselves with anger and fear. Jacob told me to come right here and ask you if you'd seen Clarke. He also instructed me to ask you to come to his home to speak with him."

"I haven't seen her in days," Jon confessed, his eyes glancing toward Bellamy. Bellamy had been frozen in place, his eyes never leaving the floor as he mulled over the man's words. Everything had stopped for him, time itself seemed to cease because all he could see, hear and feel was Clarke. Those curly blonde waves, that square set jaw, the cute dimple in her chin and cheeks, and the way she always lit a fire in him were all he could think of. It wasn't long before he was being shaken out of his trance, his eyes immediately locking with Ban's.

"Take me to the Griffin villa," Bellamy demanded, striding toward the door, the rest of the group hastily trying to follow after him.

* * *

The gate to the Griffin villa was wide open when Bellamy and the rest of the group approached. It seemed that the entire Griffin affinity was in the court yard because Bellamy immediately recognized some familiar faces. Wells, Raven, Finn, and Landell were all standing near the entrance, quietly talking amongst themselves. Bellamy could see Jake, Abby, Sarah, and Thelonious all speaking to the stable master who was emphatically trying to explain. The household guards were standing around as well, a half-dozen men eagerly waiting their commands.

"There was an emergency in the kitchens," the stable master explained, pausing briefly when he spotted Bellamy and the others. Jake simply nodded for him to continue, motioning for Bellamy to come over. "The electricity that powers the ice-box was sparking, overheating the cooler. One of the kitchen servants came running out to inform me and we all went to help, trying to shut the breaker off before it set fire to the kitchen itself. We had to haul all of the food from the thawing to the underground cellar before it went bad."

"I never thought Clarke would come home early today," one of the women standing off to the side sobbed, her eyes full of fear. "I shouldn't have involved the household staff and guards in this crisis-"

"It's alright Ellen," Abby said, embracing the woman gently. "You've been a part of Clarke's life since she was born. We understand you're scared for her…"

"Do you remember anything else? Anyone suspicious hanging around this morning or afternoon?" Jake asked, Bellamy standing close by and listening to the exchange with great interest.

"Nothing out of the ordinary at all," she said, her voice shaken. "Breakfast was fine and since no one was home for lunch, I decided to tend the herb garden but when I came back, there was water on the floor and sparks flying. I was lucky Bill was helping me haul the herbs in or else I'm sure it would have set fire."

"It's true sir," he affirmed. "I was in the stable the whole morning and afternoon, save helping Ellen… my stable hands were out at the time, one tending my purchases for the horses, the other out riding your own horse, sir."

"And the household servants?" Jake asked, looking around at Abby.

"They didn't see anything suspicious either," Abby whispered, her voice distant and frail. "They heard the cries for help in the kitchens and rushed down to help. There were only three on duty this afternoon."

"Kahl is missing from the stable as well," Jake reasoned, his eyes full of desperation. "Something could have happened while she was riding. Landell said she was meant to meet him at the west gate after lunch for an excursion. When she didn't show for over an hour, Landell came here to find her."

"He found me in the stables after the kitchen incident," Bill offered, making Jake nod. "I immediately noticed Kahl was missing when I returned to the stables but I thought nothing of it until Mr. Pike showed up..."

"And none of you have seen her since the meeting?" Jake asked, turning to Bellamy. The others were standing close behind, their faces alight with horror and confusion at the conversation in front of them.

"We haven't seen her since this morning at the meeting," Harper chimed, stepping forward slightly. "What can we do to help?"

"She didn't come to you earlier?" Bellamy asked, looking over at Jon. He was tense but the panic was obviously written on his face. No matter what the plan was, Jon saw Clarke as a friend and that was never more clear to Bellamy than now.

"I haven't seen her in days," Jon admitted, his eyes meeting Bellamy's. "I haven't met with anyone but workers and foremen for the renovations."

"This is a disaster," Abby said, clapping her hand over her mouth to stifle a sob. Jacob quickly pulled her to him, his arm encircling her as she clutched his chest. "Clarke…"

"I'll be forward with you all," Jake said, getting the attention of Raven and the others. "My daughter is the light of my life and I'd do anything to bring her home safe. So, I am asking you all to lend me your aid. If you know anything or have any information about my daughter, tell me now."

"Are you accusing us?" Monty asked, making everyone look at him. "Or is that a sincere question?"

"Only suspicious people think that way," Jake pointed, looking straight at Monty. "The Green's and the Griffin's have never gotten along, nor have the Blake's but I am more than willing to ask for your help. As I understand it, you're all friends with Clarke and I've never once gotten the impression that any of you wished to harm her."

"A future member of the council is missing," Bellamy finally spoke, cutting Monty off. "An attack on one member, is an attack on all."

"Clarke is my friend," Jon spoke out, stepping around Bellamy toward Jake and Abby. He offered his hand, his eyes locked firmly on the older man's. "I'll help you with everything I have. I will find out where she went." Jake shook his hand gratefully and nodded, looking over at Wells and Raven as they approached.

"We all will," Raven assured, finally stepping forward.

"She's my best friend," Wells nodded, a look of determination in his eyes.

"She's a friend to each of us," Harper smiled, looking over at Monty. "Even if some of us don't want to admit it."

"What do you want us to do?" Landell asked, looking between Jake and Abby. "Haven't you sent your men out already?"

"Yes, to check the park, the western market, and the city but that could take hours," Jacob assured, his brow furrowed in worry. "Most of our men are at the Griffin estates and factories. We only keep fifty within the city."

"We'll consolidate our troops and help look for any trace of Clarke," Bellamy assured, looking over at Harper. She nodded and immediately pulled out her handheld, making Finn do the same thing. "We can also scour the surrounding area to find out which route she might have taken."

"My wife and I are grateful for all the help," Jake said but Bellamy raised his hand, interrupting him.

"There is absolutely no need to thank us," he said, his jaw squared and his shoulders set. "I'll do everything in my power to find her and bring her back to you."

"We all will," Raven assured, typing away on her handheld. "I've got something that might help in our search back at the A.R.F. Monty, Finn, and Harper can help me with it. We can rally all the available troops there and spread into the city."

"Jasper, Jon, Landell, Wells, and I will head to the western gate and back-track from there," Bellamy said, turning from Jacob with a nod. "Use the walkies and let me know if you find anything. I'll be on the emergency channel."

"I'll head downtown and get my guys to start digging up information on who might have seen anything," Jon nodded, turning from the others. "I'll meet up with you at the western gate right after."

Bellamy didn't have time to contemplate anything else; the desperation spreading within him was threatening to overflow. As the group took off down the cobblestone drive and out the gate, he could feel his heart pounding erratically. What could have happened to Clarke and more importantly, who was involved? Bellamy felt the immediate pull of guilt in his chest as he thought about it. Clarke could have been kidnapped, or killed, because of her closeness to Bellamy. The thought of finding Clarke hurt or worse sent a fire through Bellamy that he'd never felt before. He'd almost broken into a run down the street as he, Wells, Jasper, and Landell all headed towards the western avenue.

"She'd have taken side streets," Wells suggested, looking over at Landell and Jasper as they all jogged to keep up with Bellamy. "She knows how to ride but she's never been outside the city. We should comb these alleys and lanes for any trace of her or her horse. He's a black and gray stallion with a long silver mane."

"If she took any of these alleys, we'll know," Landell suggested, looking around at the small side streets leading from the main path. "Not many can afford horses within the city, much less a horse like that. Look for any telltale signs like tracks or hair. Even if you just find a pile of shit… it is something."

"This afternoon just keeps getting better," Jasper noted, a slight smirk on his face. "And what do we do, once we find said shit?"

"Jasper," Wells said, looking over at him. "Any hint as to where she might have gone would be helpful."

"Let's split up and meet again on the avenue," Landell nodded, turning from the group down one of the alleyways, his eyes searching for any trace of Clarke or her horse

Jasper only sighed, nodding as the other three split off into different directions. Bellamy's mind was still reeling, still unsure of what to do. His eyes frantically searched the cobblestone alley, the walls, and the drains for any sign of a horse or Clarke. It was almost unbearable, rounding corners and hoping for a clue only to be disappointed. Again, and again, Bellamy turned down alleys, looking for anything he could use when he heard his handheld go off. The light was flashing and a paging beep had echoed about the stone walls around him. He pulled it from his jacket pocket and spoke into it, holding down the button on the screen as he spoke.

"Anything?"

"I've found something," Jasper's voice came through, sounding a bit amused. "I'm just off the western avenue between Stonemason Lane and The Dusting."

"On my way," Bellamy replied, shoving the handheld back in his pocket and nearly sprinting up the lane. He wove his way out onto the western avenue and jogged down the street towards Wells, who was coming from the opposite way. They both turned onto the side lane and stopped in their tracks. There, standing next to Jasper, was Clarke's horse. His silver mane was wafting as he shook his head, stamping at the intruders. He was munching on a little patch of grass and Wells immediately approached him, hand outstretched to pat his neck.

"This is Kahl," Wells said, patting the horse gently, grabbing his reins. "Did you find anything else?"

"Nothing," Jasper said, shaking his head. "No sign of a struggle and nothing suspicious. Just the horse…"

"Where's Landell?" Bellamy asked, looking about. He then moved around the horse quickly, looking over the ground and walls. He wasn't a tracker; he could hunt and he was no ranger or great sportsman. He had his strengths in the arena and with a gun but he was never good enough at tracking. As Bellamy looked about, Wells called to Landell over his handheld.

"Where are you?"

"Just around the corner, you're going to want to see this," he replied, and Bellamy heard the echo from just down the way. He quickly rushed down the slight slope toward an open intersection, where five alleyways met. There, standing in the middle of it was Landell, looking intently at something in his hand.

"What is it?" Bellamy questioned, hearing Wells and Kahl come up behind him as Jasper peered over his shoulder.

"It's hers, right?" Landell asked, holding out his hand. There, sitting gingerly in his palm, was a silver chain with a simple, hand-made charm on it in the shape of a peace symbol. It almost froze Bellamy in place, his mind recalling the charm on her neck earlier that day while he was busy admiring the rest of her outfit. They all stared at it blankly, unsure of what to do now.

"She had to of come this way but how did the necklace fall off?" Wells asked, his eyes wide.

"It was probably an accident," Landell offered, looking at the charm.

"But she's not here," Jasper commented, glancing about.

"There has to be a way to find out where she went," Wells commented, patting Kahl's snout.

"Her handheld," Bellamy reasoned, looking at Jasper. "Do you think she has it on her?"

"She may but I'm sure her parents already tried contacting her- "

"It has a built-in tracking device, like all of ours," Bellamy explained, still looking bewildered. "It wouldn't take much for Monty to track it."

"That's exactly what I did," came Monty's voice from behind them. "Raven is using the drone she designed to do an aerial search. It's only an alpha version so it's not fully functional yet. She can only control it from so far away. She's taken a rover to scour the city and Harper and Finn are delegating the guard. I had hoped she'd have her handheld still on her…"

"No signal?" Jasper asked, glancing at the device in Monty's hand.

"No, I can't find it," Monty nodded. "I came to find you guys to let you know that Raven is going to meet up with us. We have a plan."

"She has to still be in the city," Landell reasoned, looking about. "Getting Clarke out of the city would be noticeable, especially at all the main gates where the guard is on high alert by now. There aren't any signs of a struggle and there doesn't seem to be any tracks."

"We have to keep looking," Bellamy insisted, moving past Landell toward another side-street. "We'll search all night if we have to."

His heart was pounding faster than ever and his stomach turned and jumped. He felt so desperate to find Clarke, so desperate to know she was alright, that he'd almost completely forgotten those around him. He didn't even stop when Jasper called out to him, instead opting to turn down another lane to continue the search. How could he have let this happen? She didn't just wander off and leave her horse and necklace behind; something was terribly wrong. The more he thought about it, the worse it got. He could see flashes of her in pain, frightened, alone, and he could feel the anger that welled inside him at the thought. She didn't deserve any of this and he felt frantic to find her.

Bellamy had lost all other thoughts at that point; ignoring the ache in his shoulder and the lightheadedness that followed. He only tightened the strap on his sling and continued, looking at every doorway, every window, and every stone for a hint that Clarke had been there. He didn't care if he looked mad and it wasn't until Jasper had caught up with him did he realize that he was mostly stumbling around in a daze.

"Bellamy," Jasper said, grabbing his good shoulder. "Hey! Bellamy!"

"What-?"

"You look like you're about to faint," Jasper said, motioning for him to sit down on the cobblestone path. "Breathe… you're no good to anyone if you get put back in the hospital."

"I… she…"

"Sit," Jasper responded, moving him against the wall of the alley and helping him lower himself onto the cobblestone road.

"She's gone," was all Bellamy could say. "She's gone and it's my fault…"

"How?" Jasper asked, a doubtful grin on his face. "How is this your fault?"

"I should have seen it coming," he rambled. "Whoever attacked me, attacked her. They'll use her and it's all my fault."

"Well, it looks like their succeeding in their quest," Jasper said, making Bellamy look at him. "You look like a desperate madman right now. How do you know Clarke isn't just running away from you?"

"Don't joke!" Bellamy said, his voice low and harsh. "This is serious… Clarke is missing."

"I'm aware," Jasper said dryly, leaning against the wall and looking down at Bellamy. "But you losing your cool really isn't helping the situation. Breathe and think; what else can we do to find her?"

"Where the fuck is Murphy?" Bellamy asked, looking about. "He was supposed to find out if any of his idiots had seen anything…"

"He hasn't had the time to do anything yet," Jasper explained, shaking his head. "We haven't even been looking for very long; barely a half hour has passed."

"I don't know what to do," Bellamy groaned, sounding both exasperated and angry. "I don't know what to do."

"Bellamy! Get a grip," Jasper spat, his brow furrowed down at him. "Is this any way to act? What the hell would Clarke think if she were here?"

"But she's not here!" Bellamy retorted, his voice cold. "She's gone and we can't find her… she could be hurt or worse."

"Stop jumping to conclusions and breathe," Jasper commented, shaking his head again. "She's one of the most recognizable people in this city. They must be hiding her somewhere. We just have to find out where."

"There are thousands of homes, shops, and villas in this city," Bellamy groaned, clenching his fist. "How are we to search them all?"

"Monty said he has a plan!" Jasper replied, looking up at the sky. "You flew off the handle just now. You need to calm down."

"What's Monty's plan?" Bellamy asked, looking over at Jasper.

"Raven is meeting us and I'm sure they'll clue us in," Jasper sighed, placing a hand on his friend's good shoulder. "But seriously, if you don't pull it together, everything is lost."

Just then Monty came down the Alley, followed by the others, Wells and Kahl bringing up the rear. He glanced at both of his friends sitting on the ground and immediately pulled out a flask.

"Raven just radioed," he nodded. "She'll be here shortly. Here, have a drink." He handed the flask to Bellamy and the burning sensation in his mouth and throat immediately snapped him back to reality.

"What's the plan?" Bellamy asked, after taking a deep breath.

"The range on the tracker is abysmal," Monty admitted, motioning for him to stand up. Bellamy did, handing back the flask and regaining his composure. "So, Raven and I are going to attach the tracking device to her drone. I can program the tracker to send a feed to my handheld that will allow us to see where exactly we're searching."

"And if the handheld is destroyed?" Bellamy asked, trying not to imagine the worst.

"It's useless," Monty sighed, motioning for them to continue up the alley to the main road. "There is only so much we can do with technology."

"We'll have to sweep the entire city," Bellamy suggested, the soreness of his shoulder finally getting to him. "I promised Jake I'd bring her back."

"That's if she's still alive," Monty said, his voice hesitant.

"Don't," Bellamy warned, his eyes narrowed. "Focus on this for now."

Just then the Rover pulled up, almost as soon as they emerged from the alley. Raven was in the front seat, waving at them to join. Wells and Landell offered to take Kahl back now, deciding to meet up with Finn and Harper to sweep the city.

"Come on," Raven said, eyeing Monty. "We'll take the rover street by street. I also tuned the remote better so we can control it from a little further away. It's not much more range but it's something."

"Let's just get going," Bellamy urged, moving toward the rover. The four of them took off from the hanger into the streets, Monty driving, Raven controlling the drone, and Bellamy and Jasper closely watching the screen. Monty had worked wonders with the tracker. The entire block was lit up, showing the rover below and all the houses lining the street. Each building had a green outline, which Monty explained, denoted no trace or signal. He also explained that if the building turned red, it meant that her handheld was accessing, or had recently accessed, the Arkadian interlink system.

They drove for over two hours, slowly scanning block by block with the drone. The longer it took, the more frustrated Bellamy became. They'd checked the entire downtown district, market district, and west end without any results. The final area they had to check was the embassy district, which was filled with mostly empty buildings and lavish family villas. As they drove past the Griffin villa, the number flashed red, indicating that she had accessed the interlink system there. Bellamy expected this and hadn't received word that Clarke had made contact. They drove on, the panic Bellamy was feeling spilling over as his hands began to shake. The Green and Reyes villa flashed green like Bellamy expected and his head started to feel light, his shoulder aching from all the running and stress.

"Take deep breaths, Bellamy," Raven offered, glancing back at him from the passenger seat. "We'll find her…"

"I just don't understand," he sighed, his eyes meeting hers. "I seriously thought this would work. I was sure she'd be somewhere downtown, that somehow Murphy was involved in all of this… I just knew something was wrong…."

"Despite being a life-sucking cockroach," Raven smirked, looking back at the road. "He cares about Clarke. I don't think he had anything to do with this."

Bellamy just grumbled, staring back at the screen. They were turning the corner leading back to the embassy square to scan the other villas along the far side. It was the same thing, repeatedly. Collins residence highlighted green, Pike as well, Keller, Jaha, McIntyre, Chandler… it just kept going. Then, Bellamy froze, his breath catching in his throat. The building was red but it had to have been a mistake: it was his own home.

"Stop," Bellamy urged, handing Jasper the screen and lunging toward the door. "I need to speak with my father. You three keep looking."

"Bellamy this…"

"I know," he replied, looking back at Jasper. "I need to tend my shoulder. I'll meet you in a few minutes."

"A-alright," Raven said, eyeing him as he jumped from the back of the rover.

Bellamy shut the door tightly and banged on the frame, signaling for them to go. After they disappeared he sprinted through the gates and into the main courtyard. When he'd reached the door, his mother was standing on the other side, eyeing him curiously.

"Did you find her, Bell?" she asked, her eyes wide with worry. "Is everything okay?"

"Where is father?" Bellamy asked, his eyes darting about. The only thing he spotted was Octavia playing in the large lounge.

"He's upstairs," she nodded, motioning to the stairs.

"Alone?"

Aurora quirked her eyebrow at him, confused by his question. "Of course, a council member's daughter is missing."

"Stay down here with O," Bellamy said, stepping around her toward the stairs.

"Bellamy, what's going on?" Aurora asked, her eyes wide.

"Just trust me," Bellamy said over his shoulder, walking up the stairs quickly. He emerged onto the landing and strode down the hall toward his parent's chambers. He didn't even bother to knock, pushing the double doors open and slamming them shut behind him. He wasn't prepared for the scene in front of him.

His father was sitting at his desk, looking over at Clarke who was sitting across from him. When she heard the doors open, Clarke turned to Bellamy with a mix of intrigue and fear on her face. His father, however, only looked up at Bellamy with mild interest, his eyes narrowed on his son from across the room. Bellamy immediately strode forward, taking his father by the collar, and hoisting him from the chair.

"What do you think you're doing?" Bellamy asked, his voice dangerously low as his fist clenched around his father's collar. "We've been looking everywhere to find Clarke and I find her here, with you?! What did you do to her?!"

"Bellamy," Clarke whispered, her eyes wide as she stood up. "Please, calm down."

Bellamy rounded on Clarke, bewildered. "Calm down?" Bellamy asked, letting go of his father. He took a few small steps towards her, placing a hand on her arm. "You were gone, kidnapped we thought. What is happening? Everyone is out looking for you."

"Your father told me," Clarke sighed, placing a hand on Bellamy's cheek. "You need to calm down and listen to what he has to say…"

"The hell I do!" he screamed, turning back to Kayden. "Why? Why did you abduct her? Why would you make me think that it was my fault?"

"That wasn't my intention," Kayden insisted. "But I had to speak with her alone, without interference or detection and the only way I could do that was to try and take her by force."

"And you're fine with this?" Bellamy asked, looking back down at Clarke.

"I was confused and a little pissed that he thought he could dictate my plans," Clarke admitted, rubbing her neck with her free hand. "But your father had a legitimate reason and though I don't particularly agree with his decision to try and force me to come here, I can appreciate the point he is trying to convey."

"What point? He kidnapped the only heir to the Griffin family. There have been wars fought over things like this…"

"She came with me willingly," Kayden commented, his eyes narrowed as he sat back down in his chair. "Clarke understands my concerns, my rationale and my methods."

"You're not making any sense," Bellamy insisted, wrapping an arm around Clarke and pulling her close. She stared up at him uncertainly, her cheeks tinting red as he did. "So, allow me to end the confusion. I love her and want to marry her, no matter what our family's histories are."

"And you think I'm ignorant of this fact?" Kayden asked, his eyebrow raised. "You think I didn't notice my son's change of heart, of attitude?"

"Then why?" Bellamy asked, looking between them. "Why would you do any of this?"

"Because, no matter our personal feelings, our people come first," Clarke said, pushing Bellamy away. "And, like I've always done, I made a choice."

"What choice?" Bellamy asked, his eyes narrowing on her. "Whatever he's said, whatever you think his intentions are-."

"Bellamy," Kayden said, his voice a low warning. "I told her about all our plans."

"Your plan," Bellamy ground out, glaring at him. "Not mine…"

"You mean, not anymore," Kayden sighed, leaning back in his chair.

"Bellamy, I understand why you did it," Clarke whispered, looking away from him. "I understand and that's why your father and I have come up with a plan."

"A plan?" Bellamy asked, stepping away from the them both. "You've made some sort of plan and now you just expect me to follow it? Clarke, you don't have to do anything. You know I love you and I know you feel the same way. So why are you making any other plans?"

"It's a pipe-dream Bellamy," Clarke sighed, her eyes dark and unwavering. "Listen to me; I was optimistic and naïve but now I understand. We cannot just force people to accept that our families have suddenly become friends. We cannot force them to put aside their differences, to accept three generations of hate has suddenly vanished. I've heard it before but your father has made a valid point. On the council, we can make the most difference as partners, not lovers."

"And you'd accept that future?" Bellamy asked, looking down at her. "Because to me, it seems your running away for the sake of your family. For the sake of everyone else and once again, you haven't considered what you want!"

"I'm not a child anymore, and I'm not taking this lightly," Clarke spat up at him, her jaw set. "I've considered my options and, with the help of your father, settled on a plan of action."

"It's a simple but beneficial plan," Kayden began, gaining Bellamy's attention. "Clarke will wed Jon Murphy and you will wed princess Roya of Azgeda."

"I refuse," Bellamy said, glaring over at his father. "I refuse to believe this gives her what she wants and I refuse to marry someone I don't love."

"You didn't have a problem with gaining Clarke's affection and marrying her when you weren't in love," Kayden commented, looking between them. "And it isn't up to you. After all, Clarke would have to agree and as I have come to understand, she'd prefer Jon."

"Why would I agree to such a plan?" Bellamy asked, looking down at Clarke completely lost. "Look me in the eye and tell me you don't love me then, if your so intent on doing my father's bidding. Tell me you love Murphy."

"It's not just his idea," Clarke spat, her eyes narrowed. "It was my idea as well, Bellamy."

"So, let me get this straight," Bellamy scoffed, his voice full of doubt and annoyance. "My father kidnaps you, makes the rest of us lose our minds trying to find you, while all along you're here hatching some scheme with him?"

"He's taking this seriously," Clarke said, her jaw squared and her lips pressed into a thin line. "Unlike some people…"

"Are you seriously telling me you have Stockholm syndrome right now?"

"It's nothing like that," Clarke spat, sitting back down in the chair. "Are you going to act like a child or listen to the plan?"

"Clarke! What the hell are you thinking? Don't you want to marry for love? Don't you even care about us? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Bellamy, seriously; just stop," she said, snapping at him. "You're being childish."

"Wow," Bellamy scoffed, looking between them. "Then tell me, what's this brilliant plan."

"These two marriages are particularly advantageous for both families," Kayden assured, looking up at Bellamy. "Clarke marrying Jon ensures that there is an understanding between both sides of the aisle because the Blake's are going to fully support it. It's not so close as to arouse suspicion or ill-will but close enough to have our backing. And your marriage strengthens Arkadia's international standing. This would be the first international marriage and would, in effect, benefit all families. In return, we believe Azgeda will secede some of its land to the west and north, expanding our domain."

"This is madness. How could you even consider this to be an alternative?" Bellamy asked, sitting next to Clarke and staring directly at her. "Azgeda would never agree to give up more land. You know this could crush you and your family, right? Now the Blake faction will have access to Azgeda military support."

"The marriage to Jon guarantees that all of Arkadia works together to secure her borders and expand her reach," Clarke confessed, sounding a bit too rehearsed. This angered Bellamy more, his temper flaring at the curt dismissal of the problem at hand.

"You've just figured everything out, haven't you?" Bellamy asked, his eyes wide. "And what about Jon's feelings in this? Your friends? Mine? Or at the very least your own feelings? What happens when you realize later down the road that you've wasted all of this effort for nothing?"

"It's for my children," Clarke hissed, her eyes wide. "For my children, their children, and all the Griffin's yet to come. This isn't just about me, or you, or our feelings! This is about family, about the future of our nation; our empire. Don't pretend like you didn't know that from the very beginning. It insults both of us."

"And the council?" Bellamy asked, his eyes wide. "How is that going to work? How do you expect me to work alongside you knowing that your married to my best friend?!"

"You didn't care how I felt before," Clarke shot back, her eyes narrowed. "You were willing to use me to force a match only a few weeks ago. What makes you so different from me?"

"You're right," he spat, his eyes narrowed. He then looked at his father, a stern aura of distaste ringing in Bellamy's voice as he spoke. "You and mother raised me to be better, to be good and all I do is hurt people. I'm a monster!"

"You've saved lives," Kayden replied, his voice just as stern. "You've saved Clarke's by stalling this arrangement long enough but it ends here."

"You may be a total ass half the time," Clarke commented, her eyes on Bellamy. "But, I need you on the council. We all need you; none of us will survive Azgeda without you. You want forgiveness? Fine, I'll give it to you; you're forgiven, okay? But you can't run, Bellamy. You have to do this, you have to face it."

"So, that's how you want to do this?" Bellamy asked, his eyes wide. His voice was low, dangerously angry. "Face it, like you faced your own fears? Your own problems?"

"You're right," Clarke snapped, growing impatient. "I didn't want to face it but now, I am. It's your turn to grow up, Bellamy. All I think about every day is how we're going to keep everyone alive but we don't have a choice."

"You feel alright sharing another man's bed knowing full-well that you don't love him?" Bellamy growled, gazing into her electric blue eyes. "Lying to your children and grandchildren for the rest of your life? Tell me that you're alright with lying to yourself for all that time and I'll walk away. I'll marry Roya of Azgeda and never even think about Clarke Griffin again."

"Stop being dramatic," Kayden chimed, obviously irritated. "You're both adults now; act like it. Being married hasn't always meant that it was for love. If it means that much, I'm sure you can come to an arrangement…"

"I won't cheat on my husband," Clarke ground out, glancing over at Kayden irritably.

"And I'd never consider sharing the woman I love," Bellamy hissed, glaring over at Clarke. "You have to make another choice Clarke. This is your last chance; no more games, no more thinking. Who do you choose?"

"I've made it clear and I won't give up this opportunity for peace," Clarke said, the conviction in her voice astounding Bellamy. "I'll do what needs to be done to assure that our people prosper. If you can't do the same, you're not the man I fell in love with."

"Fine," Bellamy said, standing up. He glared at his father, his dark brown eyes almost alight with fire. "I'll support your plan, cooperate with you on the council…" He then turned to Clarke, his eyes still flaming with anger. "But I'll never forgive you for giving up on us." He then turned from the room, slamming the door behind him loudly. There was an uncomfortable silence before Kayden spoke, Clarke's face pale and desperate.

"You're quite the actress, my dear."

* * *

 **Oh... what devious plots are lurking in the shadows?! You will see... thanks for the read! Please review.**


	18. Chapter 18: Harrowing Insight

**How could they see anything but the shadows if they were never allowed to move their heads? - Plato**

* * *

"I'm almost astonished," Kayden teased, still sitting behind his desk. "How does it feel turning down real love?"

"I did that for love," Clarke retorted, glaring at him through unshed tears. "I did that to protect Bellamy and all of Arkadia from your plots and schemes."

"And as Bellamy's father, I couldn't be more grateful," Kayden assured, leaning back in his chair. "Did you really think I'd let some Griffin girl come along and ruin all my plans after I'd worked so hard to make my son royalty?"

"You're the monster," Clarke spat, her eyes narrowed. "You made Bellamy feel horrible, you practically broke him. You'd shatter your own son's heart just for power?"

"If his heart is all I must sacrifice, I'm content," Kayden assured, standing up now. "I believe you're being sought after, Clarke Griffin."

"You gave me your word…"

"I promise," Kayden said, raising his hand. "I won't allow Azgeda to harm Bellamy ever again."

Clarke only watched him for a moment before turning from him, leaving the villa in a rush, sweeping right by Aurora and Octavia on her way out the door. She didn't care to speak to anyone at that moment, the past hour of her life making her sick to her stomach. She never expected Kayden Blake to take it this far but the fact that he kidnapped her was reason enough to be weary. The subsequent conversation was less than ideal and weighed on Clarke's conscience.

Kayden Blake had revealed that the attack on Bellamy and himself wasn't random at all. Kayden Blake had been working on an alliance with Azgeda for a little over a year now. He revealed that when Azgeda had found out about Bellamy seeking another bride, they sent mercenaries to remind the Blake of their oath. The death of over a dozen Arkadian guards was a warning sent by Azgeda that only Kayden Blake was aware of. Azgeda attacked one of their gun shipments as a ploy and Bellamy easily became a target for Azgeda vengeance. It was no longer a negotiation but a demand; Queen Nia demanded the marriage of Bellamy Blake to her daughter Roya.

Kayden Blake had planned all of this out, even sending a man to sabotage the Griffin kitchens to distract the household. He had considered everything, finding just the right way to make Clarke fold. How could she even consider an action that would harm Bellamy? She had felt her heart break the moment she realized what she needed to do. Bellamy's pleading words and declarations of love only making it that much harder.

Clarke felt faint at that moment, nearly falling to the ground as she came upon her family villa. She always forgot how close the Blake's lived to her own family. Clarke knew she had to compose herself as she stared up at the grand villa. She knew she had to come up with a viable reason for leaving her horse and not responding to her calls. She didn't even want to imagine the questions her mother had about where she'd been. At that moment, she had come up with a viable solution, bracing herself for what she had to do. Without hesitation, Clarke slammed her head against the stone pillar framing the gate to the front door. She could feel the blood trickling down the side of her face now, dabbing some of it around the fresh wound and on her sleeve. She then took a deep breath and started slowly waking up the stairs toward the villa, the throbbing pain immediately catching up with her.

It wasn't long before she was spotted by a guard who immediately noted her distress and came to her aid. He helped her into the house and Clarke could hear someone call out for her parents. She immediately let go of the guard then, moving to sit on the stairs as her parents came into the atrium.

"Clarke!" her mother called, kneeling to inspect her wound. "What happened?"

"Don't panic," Clarke said, raising her hand as her father came over to inspect her, sitting down on the stair next to her. "I was riding back to the villa when Kahl was spooked," Clarke explained, batting away her mother's hand. "He bolted and I walked here from the market."

"Where were you all this time? You've been missing over two hours!" her mother asked, her eyes wide. "You were supposed to meet Landell but he said you never showed!"

"Stop panicking," Clarke glared. "You can call off the search, I'm home."

"Your head," Abby pressed, trying to move Clarke's hand. "Let me see it."

"I just hit it in the fall," Clarke groaned, looking at her father. "Have you found Kahl? Where was he?"

"Relax, you should let your mother check your head," Jake offered, wrapping an arm around her. "I'm just glad you're home."

"What happened?" Abby asked again, finally able to inspect the cut and bruising that had formed.

"I was riding and I lost track of time," Clarke ground out, glaring at her mother. "Can you just give me a moment to breathe?"

The room was silent now, both Abby and Jake staring at Clarke curiously. She'd never been so rude or so irritated with them before and they knew something was wrong. Clarke didn't care though, she needed to take all this in, she needed a moment to think and she knew she wouldn't get it if her parents were fussing over her.

"If that's what you need," Abby said quietly, taking an alcohol soaked pad and cleaning her wound. "We were worried is all."

"I understand," Clarke sighed, looking over at her. "It just hurts and I missed my chance to go riding with Landell."

"He was waiting for you near the west gate," Jake commented, staying seated next to her, his eyes a mixture of concern and disbelief. "He said he couldn't find you."

"That was my fault," Clarke replied, looking up at her father. "I got carried away waiting for Landell and rode out alone. I must have lost track of time and at one point, I was lost in the woods but Kahl knew the way home."

"I'm just glad your home," he said, smiling at Abby who'd remained silent, cleaning Clarke's wound. "All of your friends were out looking for you, even Bellamy Blake."

"I'm grateful," Clarke said, looking over at her mother. "But I'd like to rest. It's been a long day and I haven't eaten anything since lunch."

"I'll bring you up some food," Abby nodded, taking an ice-pack from one of their servants and handing it to Clarke.

Clarke slowly moved to stand now, her father immediately wrapping his arm around her torso to balance her. She smiled sheepishly at him as he escorted her up the stairs, slowly moving step by step until they were in the gallery above. Jake didn't question her as they made their way to her room, Clarke immediately sitting down on the plush couch inside. She closed her eyes for a moment, pressing the pack to her head and mulling over what had happened. It was only then that Jake cleared his throat, making Clarke's eyes pop open curiously as she looked up at him. He'd taken a seat close to her in one of the comfortable chairs near the couch.

"Before your mother comes up with your dinner," Jake began, watching her patiently. "I want you to tell me what really happened."

"I already- "

"I know you're lying and I'm almost positive your mother knows too," Jake nodded, his tone low and calming. "So, before she drills into you about today's events, you better explain them to me."

"I told you what happened," Clarke repeated, her eyes narrowed. "Why don't you believe me?"

"Because, you're irritated and irrational which makes me suspect that my daughter is hiding something," he reasoned, watching her curiously. She just looked at him incredulously before he sighed, shaking his head. He pinched the bridge of his nose now, looking exasperated for the first time in a long time. "Does it have to do with Kayden Blake?" Jake asked, Clarke's eyes going wide at his guess.

"H-how-?"

"I have a lot to tell you," Jake replied, holding up his hand. "But I'll wait for your mother. It's better that you both hear it from me."

"I don't understand," Clarke confessed, her eyes wide. "How did you know that? What haven't you been telling me?"

"Patience," Jake sighed, leaning back in the chair now. "Keep that ice on your head." Clarke's hand immediately flew back to her face, her eyes never leaving her father as they both sat there in silence. It wasn't for a few more minutes that Abby came in, a tray in her hands full of meat, fruit, vegetables, and pastries. Behind her followed a servant with a pitcher, Abby taking it from her and dismissing her from the room. When the door shut behind her, Abby rounded on Clarke, watching her intensely.

"So, what really happened?" She demanded, pouring Clarke a glass of water. "Where did you really go for two hours?"

"Abby," Jake spoke up, gaining his wife's attention. "Sit down, I need to speak with you both."

"Not until she explains what's going on," Abby insisted, setting the pitcher down on the coffee table next to the tray of food. "What happened? You picked a fine time to be a typical rebellious teenager!"

"Mom, I- "

"Sit down," Jake said, his voice sounding more commanding, looking up at his wife with a stern but pleading stare. "I can explain what happened."

Abby sat down on the end of the couch, looking between her daughter on her right and husband on her left, suspiciously contemplating some betrayal or lie. Clarke was also curious, the hum of anticipation filling her stomach as he sat there, looking between them. Clarke could see in her father's eyes that he was struggling with something and she was more than eager to find out what it was. The room was silent a good minute before Jake spoke, his eyes meeting Abby's first.

"I'm sorry beforehand, for everything you're about to hear," he whispered, his voice full of sorrow and shame. He then looked at Clarke, his eyes gleaming with love as he considered her. "And I am sorry that I forced you into all of this but it is time you both knew what I've been planning."

"I've been considering an alliance for a while now," Jake continued, catching Abby's eye. "Since Clarke's thirteenth birthday party, do you remember it?"

"You invited almost everyone in Arkadia," Abby noted, looking him over. "Of course, only our friends showed up. Clarke was beautiful that day, so happy too. I remember the kids playing games and I remember the cake and- "

"Do you remember the gifts?" Jake asked, making Clarke look between them mystified. She had no idea what they were getting at.

"There were several lovely ones," Abby nodded, looking at Clarke. "Do you remember the watch we gave you?"

"It's in my room but what does-?"

"Do you both remember the gift from the Azgeda ambassador?" Jake asked, looking directly at Abby. "Do you remember that he and several other ambassadors attended the party as well?"

"Jake…" her mother said, sounding both breathless and furious.

"I know you didn't agree with it but I had to make a decision," Jake said, a pleading note in his voice as he reached his hand out to Abby. He squeezed her arm but she pulled it away, refusing to look at him again. She was staring angrily at the table in front of them, her lips pressed into a thin line. Clarke could almost feel the fury emanating from her. When she caught Clarke's confused, and obviously fearful, gaze she immediately softened, wrapping her arms around Clarke tightly. Clarke could have sworn Abby was crying now, refusing to let go of her even after she'd dropped the icepack.

"What is going on?" Clarke asked, catching her father's attention. He looked sick and weary and Clarke wasn't sure what to think of any of this. He hadn't really explained how he knew about Kayden Blake's plans.

"Do you remember the Azgeda ambassador's present?" her father asked, making Abby pull back from Clarke, still holding the embrace.

"Vaguely," Clarke commented, looking up at her mother. "I remember opening it. It was in an ornately carved wooden box with the Azgeda royal sigil carved into the lid. I remember the box mostly because of how beautiful it was but the gems, stones, and jewelry inside I didn't really care for. It wasn't my style and I remember you said you'd put it up for me."

"Inside that box was something else that you'd glanced over," her father said, a smile on his face as he remembered that day. "An ornately carved bone and silver crown."

"That's what that was?" Clarke asked, recalling the gaudy looking white and silver piece. "I assumed it was a necklace."

"It was a crown," Kayden corrected, glancing up at Abby who has still refused to look at him. "And those jewels and gifts, along with the box, were Prince Roan's engagement gifts to you."

Clarke immediately felt horrified and pushed her mother away, moving to put some distance between them. Her head was reeling and her stomach was doing flips, making her feel uneasy and sick. She refused to look at either of her parents in that moment, her gaze falling on the table in front of her. She could tell her breathing was shallow and wondered if this is what a panic attack felt like. Everything in her was on edge, electrified like so many fibers ready to spark at any moment. She felt mortified, betrayed, helpless, sick, and heartbroken and that is what made it all worse. She felt heart broken and discarded.

Initially she had believed she could tell Bellamy of his father's plans, warn him, and get everyone else's help in ridding Arkadia of the Azgeda threat. She believed she could somehow convince him that her words were all lies and but even now, that sounded silly. Kayden Blake knew better than to threaten her without fail-safes and at that very moment, Clarke knew she'd been beaten. Now, she knew that the threaten wasn't from Kayden Blake at all but her own father. He had somehow set all of this up and the questions began forming one after another. She couldn't keep any of it straight and before she realized what was happening, everything had gone dark.

* * *

~~ TWO WEEKS LATER ~~

* * *

"GO BELLAMY!" Octavia was sitting on a bench in their garden, overlooking Jon and Bellamy's sparring match. She was watching closely, taking her job as Bellamy's official babysitter very seriously. After about a week of brooding, scheming, and heartache, Bellamy had decided that he wasn't going to let this decide his future. He'd gotten approval, from another doctor, to begin training this week and after some light physical therapy and one last checkup, he was ready to fight again. That afternoon he and Jon had decided to take a break from renovations to train.

"You'll never win if you don't focus," Jon pointed, swinging the sparring sword at Bellamy to knock him off balance. "Where is your mind at today?"

"On training," Bellamy retorted, managing to keep his balance as he moved around Jon. He swung his own sword now, Jon countering with full strength. Bellamy could feel his shoulder was getting sore after an hour, watching Jon as he pivoted, knocking Bellamy's sword from his grasp.

"It doesn't look like it," Jon nodded, putting the sparring sword down. "What's up?"

"Are you sure we'll be ready to open next week?" Bellamy asked, eyeing Jon.

"Most of the floors are already done," Jon smiled, motioning for he and Bellamy to take a seat as Octavia came over to bring them some water. They both drank quickly, thankful for the cool water that hot afternoon. It had been uncommonly dry for the past week and the heat made it that much worse. "Clarke has approved some interior design aspects and has visited to offer final approval on everything else. Business has been running smoothly and we haven't had a gang fight or riot in almost a month. That's a new record!"

"You saw Clarke?" Bellamy asked, glancing up at Jon. Octavia was looking between them curiously, taking a seat on the bench next to Bellamy.

"She's doing fine," Jon said, pouring some more water for them. "She's been making almost daily appearances at the lounge."

"Have either of you approached the engagement?"

"No, I haven't spoken to her about marriage since that night the three of us met almost three weeks ago," Jon admitted, glancing over at Octavia who was listening closely. "Hey, aren't you a little young-?"

"She's fine," Bellamy nodded. "She's been my closest confidant the past couple of weeks."

"I'm your sister," she pressed, smirking over at Jon. "And I know everything. Bellamy told me."

"Isn't that a bit dangerous?" Jon asked, eyeing them both.

"Octavia is growing up," Bellamy smiled, looking down at his sister. "I think it's time she learns how things work. Mother wasn't happy and I haven't spoken to father in weeks but I know he's pleased with himself regardless."

"So, what are we going to do?" Jon asked, looking back at Bellamy. "I mean, are you really going to go through with this engagement?"

"I have no choice," Bellamy sighed. "And neither do you. My father and Clarke have worked out some sort of deal and we're both just pieces on their board."

"You don't really believe that," Jon snapped, shaking his head. "You don't really believe that Clarke just gave up on you and chose me instead. Everyone could see you two were perfect for one another."

"Even if she did have feelings for me," Bellamy said, his tone a mixture of defiance and persistence. "There is nothing to be done about it. She knew how I felt about her, she knew that I could offer her everything she wanted, and yet she turned me down for some deal she and my father made. She chose to satisfy everyone else but herself, yet again."

"She must have had a better reason," Octavia chimed, making both Jon and Bellamy look at her. She stared back at them bewildered, unsure why they were looking at her the way they were. "What?" she asked, her eyebrows raised. "Just because I'm only eleven doesn't mean I don't understand love!"

"Tell us what you understand," Bellamy smiled, wrapping an arm around her.

"You said she kissed you," Octavia reasoned, her hand going to her chin as she sat there in thought. "You said she kissed you and it was mutual. You also said that she couldn't trust you and that she couldn't risk her family's safety." Octavia stared up at Bellamy now, somewhat confused. "Explain to me why she can't trust you again."

"You know why," Bellamy nudged, making her grin. "You've been in school long enough to know why."

"But that doesn't make sense," Octavia chuckled, swatting his arm. "Think about it: when you have feelings for someone, wouldn't you do anything to protect them? To make them happy?"

"She didn't really have feelings for me O," Bellamy reasoned. "I underestimated her and she played me, just like I had planned on playing her."

"So, she doesn't love you?" Octavia asked, glancing at Jon. "She loves you?"

"She doesn't love me," Jon replied, shaking his head. "She can't love me when she already loves Bellamy."

"Do you love her?" Octavia asked, her eyes narrowed on Jon.

"As a friend," Jon nodded, raising his hands as if to deflect her gaze. "At first, I thought her arrogant, stubborn, and far too wholesome. Now, I know that is all a lie, a mask for hiding her true self. She's a lot like me, you know? A survivor… she just cares too damn much for people."

"There's no point debating it," Bellamy said, drinking the rest of the water and standing up. "It's over, I lost and I refuse to get hung up over it. Princess Roya is an ideal match as well."

"I think your giving up too easily," Jon commented, standing up as well. "But I won't push you. I don't think Clarke is making this decision lightly and what's more is that I think there is something else going on that we just don't understand."

"I can't worry about that now," Bellamy dismissed, feeling irritated. "It's over."

"I think she loves you," Octavia commented, standing up as well and leading the way back toward their mansion. "I think she did it to help you, not to hurt you."

"Help?" Bellamy scoffed. "This isn't a fairy tale, O. Clarke is a big girl and she's able to make her own decisions. Besides, the Azgeda delegation is showing up tomorrow along with the commander's coalition and the various other delegates. This will be the first time, in over forty years, that delegates have met here for a conclave. I need to be focused on that."

"When do you plan on announcing your engagement?" Jon asked, looking over at Bellamy as they walked up the narrow stone lane through the hedges.

"I haven't the faintest idea," Bellamy scoffed, glancing up at the window where is father was standing. Kayden was watching them closely, Bellamy looking away the moment they made eye-contact. "But I'm sure it will be soon."

"The commander has ordered that games be held on the final day of the negotiations," Jon noted. "Will you compete?"

"No," Bellamy sighed, stepping in front of Octavia to open the door to the conservatory. "It's too much of a risk on my shoulder and arm."

"There will be many grounder champions competing," Jon commented, closing the door behind them as they made their way through the tables of herbs, flowers, and vegetables. "I hear that even prince Roan is rumored to compete."

"Let him," Bellamy said, glancing down at Octavia as she started perusing the tomato plants. "If he dies, it'll be better for me," he whispered, making Jon smirk.

"I'm going to pick some of these tomatoes and cucumbers," Octavia said, motioning for Bellamy to go in. "We can make sandwiches with them."

"I'll send out someone to help you carry them in," Bellamy waved, disappearing through the wooden door and into the long hall leading to the front of the mansion. Bellamy turned to one of the servants who was sweeping the wooden floor, telling her that Octavia was still out in the conservatory and she needed help bringing in some vegetables. The servant didn't delay, nodding at Bellamy before going outside to help.

"So," Jon said, motioning for Bellamy to follow him. The Blake family mansion was a second home to Jon and Bellamy could tell he appreciated being a part of their family. He and his sister always used to visit over summer break and during the holiday months. "I didn't want to say anything while Octavia was around but there's something going on I thought you should be made aware of."

Bellamy eyed him curiously as they turned into the grand hall, crossing it and walking through the door opposite of the dining room. It was a small study that he and Jon used to frequent as boys, a library his grandfather had started over thirty years ago. Jon motioned for him to sit down and started pouring them both a glass of whiskey. It was when Jon sat down across from him that Bellamy noticed his hesitation and his worry.

"What is it?" Bellamy asked, eying his friend over the rim of his glass. "What is it that I need to be aware of?"

"Clarke's been acting strange," Jon admitted, his voice low and steady. "She hasn't been her usual kind and caring self lately. In fact, she's been pretty confrontational, which isn't like her. The other day she told Ban to go stick something somewhere particularly unpleasant."

"She's probably on edge, trying to figure out a way to convince you to agree to the match," Bellamy offered, sipping on his drink. "You did turn her down before but she has my father's backing so I don't know what she could be so worried about."

"That's just it," Jon nodded, leaning back in the chair and glancing out the window. "She shouldn't be worried. Everything is going smoothly, according to your father's plan. So, why the edginess and hesitancy? Why hasn't she approached me directly about it?"

"Because she probably knows how my father works," Bellamy ground out, becoming irritated. "My father will have talked to yours by now. All that's left is to arrange the engagement announcement."

"Clarke just didn't seem like the person to be bullied into submission like that," Jon reasoned, still looking out the window. "She wouldn't have given up without a fight."

"There was nothing to fight for!" Bellamy growled, this time gaining Jon's attention. "She never had feelings for me; I was just a means to an end and when she finally got what she wanted, she dumped me like I never existed in the first place!"

"Quit being a whiney little girl and listen to me," Jon asserted, squaring his jaw and gazing over at Bellamy sternly. "Something is going on but every time I approach the subject, even casually, she shuts me down. When I ask her to go out to dinner, lunch, coffee, even a walk, she shuts me out and I'm left wondering what I could have done to irritate her. Don't you see? She's hiding something and has been ever since she spoke to your father."

"Thank you, Mr. Obvious," Bellamy groaned, rolling his eyes. "She's just trying to hide her involvement in my marriage until hers can be announced. That would be the most advantageous time to start announcing engagements and alliances."

"Why would she wait? Why would she shut me out and only maintain our business dealings if we're set to be engaged? It wouldn't be dangerous if we were seen out together anyway."

"I don't know!" Bellamy thundered, taking a large gulp of his drink. "I don't know what she's thinking, I don't know what she's feeling, I don't know why I even care! Just drop it, alright? It's over and done with."

"I can't have my best friend," Jon began and then paused, reconsidering his words. "My brother, hating my future wife. I wouldn't be able to live with it and I don't want my kids to have to."

"I don't hate her," Bellamy mumbled, making Jon quirk an eyebrow at him. "I love her and that's why it is so hard for me. Do you think I want to see my brother married to the woman I love?"

"No," Jon sighed, looking back out the window. "And I don't want that jealousy between us. I never did; Clarke just wasn't the kind of girl for me but I didn't want to see her get hurt either. She's… different."

"You enjoyed the competition though," Bellamy grinned, making Jon look at him. "I know you did. But it seems I've been bested and I couldn't pick a better man."

"You're joking, right?" Jon asked, an unimpressed look in his eyes. "I'm not the valiant knight come to rescue the princess you idiot. That's was supposed to be your job but the princess was smarter than either of us."

"To the princess," Bellamy nodded, raising his glass and downing the rest of the whiskey.

"So, what is the plan? We haven't really spoke about all of this in a couple weeks. Even Jasper and Monty are starting to worry…"

"You told them my father and Clarke's plan, right?" Bellamy asked, setting his cup on the coffee table. Jon only nodded and Bellamy replied with a shrug. "What more is to be done?"

"Between us," Jon noted, setting his own glass down. "What are we going to do about this marriage?"

"Marry her, impregnate her, love her and your kids, grow old and meet your grandkids…" Bellamy was aimlessly listing these things, uninterested in any sort of complicated plot or plan.

"I refuse to believe that this one minor setback has completely unhinged you," Jon hissed, making Bellamy look at him. "You've just resigned yourself to a fate you don't even believe in!"

"And? It's what must be done to secure the future of my family," Bellamy reasoned, shaking his head. "I never should have lost sight of my goals and doing so has cost me more than a broken heart."

"But she still lo- "

"No more," Bellamy warned, his voice dangerous and low. "Just drop it. We should be discussing tomorrow's banquet. The Prince and Princess of Azgeda will be here with their retinue on top of thirty plus ambassadors and delegates sent by the other eleven clans."

"Then let's talk," Jon sighed, standing up and grabbing his glass. He grabbed Bellamy's as well and filled them to the rim, ready to discuss their plans for the next night's banquet with an unamused sulk on his face.

* * *

"You look exhausted," Raven insisted, her eyes scanning Clarke as she shuffled through different outfits on her mirror. "Even on your days off you look dead on your feet. You should rest."

"I'm fine," Clarke waved, choosing a navy dress that encircled her neck with a simple strap and cinched at the waist. "I got up early to check out the plans at the lounge and spent the day approving of the final changes to the interior."

"You're working entirely too hard on this little side project with Murphy," Raven hummed, sitting down in one of the chairs across from the bed. "Why are you trying so hard for Murphy?"

"Raven," Clarke warned, her voice low. Clarke hadn't told her about her father's plans or Kayden's subsequent plans. In fact, for the past two weeks, Clarke had been trying to wrap her mind around what was happening. "Jon's not a bad guy and this little partnership of ours is my first real grasp at power. Why can't you just be happy?"

"Because, it's dangerous," Raven snapped, watching her closely as she slipped on a pair of simple black heels. "Once everyone finds out that you two are working together it will be an entirely different game. Your support for him will make everyone think you've chosen him as a suitor."

"I'm going out to a very public banquet tonight to meet with Azgeda and coalition delegates," Clarke scoffed, shoving the necklace that Kat made her under the neck of the dress. Raven had given it back to her the day she went missing. That whole day was such a blur that Clarke couldn't even keep it straight. She knew what had happened, of course, but keeping it from everyone else is what really threw her off. She was never a good liar. Clarke then slipped on some simple silver bracelets and dangling hoop earrings, completing the classy look. Her hair was pulled up on her head in a messy but fashionable bun, curls falling over her neck and cheeks as she applied some tasteful shadow and lip gloss.

"Clarke," Raven groaned, moving to stand next to her, observing Clarke's outfit in the mirror. "Where did you get those earrings and bracelet?" Clarke only smiled, stepping away from the mirror and sitting on her ottoman, observing Raven closely.

"They're a birthday present from years ago," Clarke nodded, checking her reflection again. The precious purple and blue stones accented the silver band perfectly, as well has the silver hoops of her earrings.

"Those were the Azgeda jewels you received at your thirteenth birthday," Raven commented, eyeing them closely. "You've never worn them before."

"I totally forgotten about them but I thought today would be an appropriate occasion," Clarke nodded, glancing over at Raven. She could tell her friend was puzzled by her attitude the past few weeks.

"You want to tell me why your so intent on showing off at this banquet?" Raven asked, looking over Clarke's choice of outfit. It was sexy, mature, and far too formal and didn't fit Clarke at all.

"This conclave with the twelve clans is important and I want to draw attention," Clarke nodded, looking over at Raven in her simple black leggings and long asymmetrical white and yellow tunic.

"For suitors?" Raven questioned, still trying to comprehend what Clarke was thinking.

"Yes, it's important that I draw attention to my decision tonight," Clarke affirmed, standing now and reviewing her look one more time. It was noble but enticing and slightly provocative because her entire back was exposed. It also was traditional, the skirt falling far below the knees as it hugged around her hips.

"You're on the right path then," Raven nodded, standing as well. "Who have you chosen? We haven't spoken about suitors in over two weeks… I'm surprised you've already decided."

"It wasn't hard, when I considered what was best for my family," Clarke rationalized, looking over at Raven. "I'll tell you more later tonight, after the banquet."

"Are you sure it's the right choice?" Raven asked, quirking an eyebrow. "You love whoever it is, don't you?"

"I will," Clarke smiled, fixing a few curls on her head, noting the silver clips and bobbles holding her hair together.

"What do you mean, will?" Raven asked, her tone low. "I thought that was the whole point of allowing you to choose your own suitor. I thought you wanted to fall in love?"

"I did and now I'm getting engaged," Clarke affirmed, Raven quirking an eyebrow at her friend. She could hear the regret behind Clarke's voice.

"Don't lie to me, Clarke," Raven stated, her eyes narrowed. "I can tell something is wrong so what is it?"

"Nothing is wrong," Clarke sighed, shaking her head. "I'm just nervous is all."

"You're never nervous," Raven retorted, meeting her eyes. "What is it?"

Clarke stared at Raven for a moment, debating on what to tell her. She didn't really have an excuse for her behavior, or her father's plans, which is why she was avoiding most people. When Raven pressed her again, shrugging her shoulders with mute admonition, Clarke groaned.

"You have to keep it secret," Clarke began, looking at Raven sternly. "No one, do you understand? Not even Finn…"

"If I want to keep a secret, I know better than to tell Finn," Raven smirked, wrapping her arms around her torso. She stood, arms crossed, waiting for Clarke's explanation with obvious impatience.

"My father has arranged an engagement," Clarke began, motioning for her to wait until she had finished explaining. "My mother and I were not aware of it but on my thirteenth birthday, he promised Azgeda that their heir, Prince Roan, would be my husband. That's what the gift of jewelry was about and the reason I'm so on edge. He not only did this to secure a match for me but to stop the Blake family from monopolizing the might of the Azgeda military behind the council's backs; I'm to be the next queen of Azgeda."

Raven was completely silent, her eyes wide in horror and disbelief. Then, she laughed, shaking her head violently. "No, no no…" she laughed, looking back at Clarke. "You're joking, right? Your father would never do that to you, he adores you. C'mon, what's the real reason?"

"I'm not joking," Clarke growled, making Raven gasp. The color had drained from her face that instant and Clarke could see the horror behind her eyes. She had to swallow several times before speaking.

"And you're… okay with this?"

"I don't really have a choice," Clarke replied, checking her reflection again. "I meet him for the first time tonight and our engagement will be announced at the end of the conclave along with the marriage of Bellamy Blake to princess Roan of Azgeda. We're going to be in-laws…"

"Clarke, what the hell is wrong with you?" Raven asked, her voice a little shriller than she intended. "Why aren't you fighting this? Why are you so calm?"

"Because, I've known for two weeks now and I've come to terms with the fact that I never really had a choice to begin with," Clarke sighed, glancing over at Raven. "I'm the last of my family and the only way to protect my family from a Blake-Azgeda alliance is to become part of that family as well."

"What about you? I thought you were falling for Bellamy," Raven asked, her eyes narrowed. She knew her friend all too well and Clarke had to bite her lip to stop the feelings that were welling inside. She had to remain calm and Raven's line of questioning wasn't helping. "What happen there? Why wouldn't you just marry him and end this problem once and for all?"

"It's not that simple," Clarke retorted, watching Raven closely. She'd regained her composure, squaring her jaw with conviction. "Bellamy would destroy me and my family name without a second thought; that's what he does. He plays with people, uses them, and then disposes of them like trash. At least with this Azgeda marriage, I'm guaranteed that my children become future kings and queens."

"That's not how you really feel," Raven pressed, moving closer to Clarke. "Tell me the truth! You're heartbroken over it, aren't you? You were starting to fall for Bellamy and that's why you're pushing him away now."

"Who do you think you are talking too?" Clarke asked, crossing her arms and glaring up at Raven. She'd never been so furious with her friend, so irritated with her insistence and disbelief. She didn't want to talk about this anymore and Raven's questions had sent her over the edge. "Do you think I don't understand what is at stake? Do you think I'm some sort of selfish, heartsick teenager? I don't need you, or anyone else, telling me what this choice means. I don't need anyone telling me the gravity of the situation or the danger I face. I am painfully aware of it every moment of every day!"

"Then open your damn eyes!" Raven retorted, her arms flying into the air and her eyes going wide as she looked back at Clarke. "Be reasonable and do something about it. Why can't you choose Bellamy? What is stopping you from uniting all of Arkadia behind your marriage and using it against Azgeda? Where is the brave leader I've come to know and love? Where have you hidden my friend?"

"You're being dramatic," Clarke huffed, looking away from her now, feeling a pang of guilt in her chest. "She hasn't gone anywhere. I'm still me…"

"Are you? Why the hell are you acting this way then?" Raven asked, her voice low now, almost ashamed. "Don't you feel ashamed? Angry? Anything?"

"I am betrothed to Roan of Azgeda," Clarke replied, her voice soft, almost defeated as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. "I'm not even sure I can love him but I have to find out, don't I? I have to at least try…"

"And what if he's just using you? What if this engagement of yours leads to nothing but disaster? What then?" Raven's eyes were firmly on Clarke, watching her carefully as if she might break from hearing that question.

"I don't understand why you are so concerned," Clarke said, her voice barely a whisper. "If so, it is my mistake to make."

"I care for you, Clarke," Raven said, taking her hands gently. "Don't you see that? You're like my sister and, even though it took a while, I finally understand what you're trying to do. I believe in you and your plan for a peaceful Arkadia and so do several other people. Don't dash our dreams."

"Raven… I'm trying to make those dreams into a reality," Clarke sighed, placing a hand on her friend's cheek. "Roan is the answer to all of my problems. He can offer the control of the crown of Azgeda for myself and my children. He can also help me to carry on my family name, an agreement reached between my father and Queen Nia. The heir will be named Prince of Azgeda but any other children I may have are free to take the Griffin name. His marriage to me would subdue the Blake faction permanently and would make us family by blood. It is the best chance I have at creating that peaceful future without risking complete annihilation."

"You're so blind sometimes," Raven smiled, an amazed look in her eyes. "Why in the world would you chose Prince Roan over Bellamy Blake? Why would you willingly give up love for something so unimpressive? How could you be so careless?"

"Excuse-?"

"Just shut up and listen," Raven groaned, squeezing Clarke's hand and leading her back to the ottoman. "Even if by some miracle everything goes to plan, you'll still have an even greater obstacle to overcome. Think about it; the Blake faction will be furious over such a betrayal and would never agree to a Griffin king or queen. They'll have to retaliate and you and Roan will have painted targets on your backs. Not to mention your children and everyone else who supports your marriage in Arkadia. After all, if you don't produce an heir, the crown will go to Roya and Bellamy. It could be a catalyst for civil war and an opportunity for Azgeda to fully invade; didn't you even think about that?"

Clarke was stunned silent now, her mind turning as Raven spoke, unable to deny her reasoning. It had never crossed Clarke's mind and she felt even more frustrated that she hadn't thought of such an outcome. She'd taken precautions, mulling over countless scenarios and hypotheticals in her head whenever she had a free moment. Even before bed her mind would drone on and on about what-ifs and she could never get comfortable. However, Raven had revealed a possibility that she couldn't possibly ignore. Anything she and Roan accomplished would be overshadowed by animosity and contempt because as far as Arkadia was concerned, it was a marriage to a foreign enemy. However, it was the same for the Blake. Endorsing a match between themselves and Azgeda was the only option open to them if they wanted to maintain the balance of power.

She didn't think herself completely ignorant of that; she knew what it would look like the moment he proposed it to her. She just didn't think that it would escalate so quickly, so fiercely. She expected fallout from the Blake, distaste from her colleagues, and disappointment from a few eligible suitors but she never imagined that they would treat it as a catalyst for another war. After all, Azgeda coming to their side would be a huge win for not only her family but the others as well. She honestly believed that her father held the upper hand but Raven was absolutely right. If backed into a corner, the Blake's have no choice but to retaliate leading to all our war, something Clarke was determined to avoid at all costs. Raven could tell she was lost in her own thoughts, the panic in her eyes and the paleness of her face evidence that she really hadn't thought that far ahead.

"Clarke," Raven said, placing a hand on her friend's cheek. Clarke's eyes met Raven's and for a moment, she felt as if she wanted to cry. It could have been a mixture of feelings and fears but all Clarke could picture were those deep and dark brown eyes full of betrayal and heartache. Raven pulled her into her arms anyway, moving to sit closer so Clarke could rest on her shoulder as silent tears fell from her deep blue eyes. She never sobbed or wailed but sat there, holding Raven tightly until, after nearly fifteen minutes, she pulled away. Raven wiped away the wetness from Clarke's cheeks, smiling at her sheepishly. Clarke could tell she didn't mean to upset her like this and it made the pain even worse.

"You're right," Clarke sighed, pulling away from Raven. "I don't know how I didn't see it or what I was thinking but my father could have walked us into an Azgeda trap."

"I know what you were thinking," Raven smiled, squeezing her hand again. "You want to protect your family and you want to protect those you love. I think, without you fully realizing it, Bellamy had become one of those people and you'd do anything to protect him, even give him up to another woman."

"I had a choice," Clarke sighed, the defeated look in her eyes making Raven squeeze her hand yet again. "I could have told Bellamy the truth about his father, I could have risked everything to be with him. He was willing to give up everything for me and I turned him away because I didn't know all the facts."

"What do you mean?

"Kayden knew about the attack on his son," Clarke admitted, Raven's eyes going wide. "It was retaliation for considering other matches, a threat directly from queen Nia of Azgeda. Kayden Blake had been planning a match between Bellamy and Roya for over a year now. If I'd have known that my father had planned for this, that he had worked out a safety-net for us, I would have never turned him away."

"It sounds like love," Raven confirmed with a smile. "But do you really feel that spark with him; is it passion?"

"The thought of living my life without him is unbearable," Clarke admitted, feeling her heart skip a beat at the thought of his warm and firm embrace. She immediately felt a twinge of fear as well, unsure if she'd truly given herself over to the love she felt for Bellamy. Until now, she'd never really confronted it but it was so painfully obvious that she felt stupid for ignoring it.

"But why the consecutive assaults?" Raven questioned, watching Clarke curiously. "Why would Azgeda attack them more than once?"

"Kayden told me they wanted to show him that he wasn't untouchable," Clarke replied, feeling a bit overwhelmed. Everything was starting to feel unreal and the more she questioned Kayden's motives, the harder it became to remember what he said. "They wanted to prove that they could strike us at any time, within our own borders."

"And Kayden was willing to sacrifice his own son just to gain the upper hand?"

"He didn't know they'd retaliate like that," Clarke confessed, looking at her lap now. "He didn't know the attack was coming or that it would target Bellamy. They were drawn out into the open and ambushed but he knew it was Azgeda."

"Why didn't you just tell Bellamy?" Raven asked, frantically trying to make sense of it all. "Why didn't you just reveal Kayden's plans to Bellamy and stop him together? Why did you walk away?"

"Because I was afraid," Clarke admitted, her voice quivering with self-loathing. "I was scared! I didn't stand my ground when I needed to and how could I? If I would have revealed Kayden's plans to Bellamy, it could be just the catalyst needed for civil war! Family turned against family and all for my sake; it would have hurt everyone so I made a decision. I thought I was protecting everyone!"

"Oh Clarke," Raven said, shaking her head helplessly. "My selfless, caring, friend." Raven pulled her into a hug now and Clarke couldn't help the tears that sprang to her eyes. She'd made a mistake; she knew it weeks ago but she never let herself believe it. She kept busy, going along with her father's plans, and believing she could actually do what was necessary to secure an alliance that would keep both families safe. She had thought she considered every angle, every move, and every decision but she never thought to consider her own feelings. Not once did she allow herself to fight for what she wanted and throughout it all, she never made a selfish move.

"I don't know what to do," Clarke whispered, tears soaking Raven's collar and neck as they hugged. "Bellamy hates me, he'll never believe his father was behind the attacks, he'll never trust me again."

"We have to make him see," Raven assured, pulling back and placing her hands on Clarke's shoulders. "Listen to me, tonight may be your only chance to convince him and I think I know a way I can help."

"How-?"

"Just get ready, go to the banquet," she smiled, moving her hand down to squeeze Clarke's arm. "I'll meet you there."

Before Clarke could protest, Raven stood up, crossing the room confidently and opening the door. She could see the twinkle in Raven's eyes and the mischievous grin she flashed over her shoulder before disappearing on the other side of Clarke's door. Clarke didn't understand, and couldn't fathom what was going through Raven's mind but she knew her friend hadn't meant to upset her. Clarke hadn't meant to feel so conflicted either.

The past two weeks had been busy and mystifying. Her father had told her that he made this arrangement years ago in case of an Azgeda and Blake alliance. He knew Kayden Blake all too well, both men not wanting to admit their complicated friendship and rivalry. Jake knew that Kayden would approach Azgeda with a suit for his son, long before marriage was ever discussed. It only made sense, given the lack of powerful female prospects. So, he made a deal with Queen Nia that whenever Kayden Blake approached them, the plan would be set in motion. Nia would allow her daughter's marriage to Bellamy to gain not one but two powerful allies in exchange for a Griffin Queen.

It was a complicated, but brilliant, plan that she could have never considered, even in her wildest dreams. The fact that her father had decided something so monumental for her also made her rethink the kind of man he always seemed to be. She knew he loved her like no other but the fact that he'd do this without consulting her made her even angrier. She might not have disagreed with his plan and saved herself from the unrivalled heartache she was currently feeling. However, the thought of another man touching her and kissing her made her stomach turn. She'd never considered that aspect of the marriage, never let herself contemplate what it really meant to be another man's wife until now.

She felt so naïve, clutching her stomach painfully as it turned and twisted. How could she be so detached from her own feelings, her own needs, like this? She couldn't comprehend what she'd been thinking but the overwhelming feeling to go running to Bellamy that very moment sobered her. She wanted nothing more than to share her life and passions with Bellamy but she didn't need him to fix this problem. This princess didn't need her knight to come save her; not this time.

* * *

"Well, look who's fashionably late," Monty chimed, nodding at Bellamy as he walked over toward him. Monty, Jasper, Harper, Kat, and Jon were all standing in a group, admiring the decorations that night. The Embassy Ballroom was only used for special foreign dignitaries and royalty and tonight it was exceptionally decorated. There were long strands of leaves and white flowers encircling the upper gallery and stringing across the ceiling in an elegant crisscrossing pattern. The chairs, tables, and high table were all decorated with beautifully embroidered white, blue, and red ribbons and cloths. The large casks of ale, wine, and shine were all lined neatly along the far wall, decorated with hanging ribbon and garland as well. There was a bar set up just off to the side of it where many patrons, including ambassadors from various clans, were sampling its delights. In the middle, between the two side-tables and the high table, was a simple dancefloor, bustling with people dancing and talking.

"I would have been earlier but Octavia was being difficult," Bellamy smirked, approaching his friends. He could see that each of them were wearing simple, rather traditional, outfits with their family crests or colors embroidered on them. Jon and Kat were sporting orange, Monty his usual green and umber, and Harper was wearing a rather stale, and simple, gray laced tunic. Only Jasper stood out, the brightness of the violet color embroidered around his collar making him standout among the crowd of black and slate.

"I see she came along tonight," Kat noted, waving at Octavia as she stood next to her mother and father. They weren't far away, speaking with Ichiru Green, Jace Murphy, and Roland McIntyre. "She looks stunning in that blue dress."

"She's growing up," Bellamy smiled, glancing around. "Has the Azgeda delegation showed up yet?"

"No, not yet," Monty noted, looking about. "And neither have the Griffins."

"I see Raven and Finn," Harper noted, making them all glance across the room. "And look, Wells and Landell are here too."

"Where is Clarke?" Kat asked, glancing about. "I see Lexa and Lily over there speaking to Kane and Thelonious but I don't see Jake or Abby."

"Maybe they're trying to be fashionably late as well," Jon commented, looking over at Jasper. "You bring any of your special reserve?"

"I'm actually keeping a small cask of wine behind the bar," Japser smirked, eyeing Bellamy. "Shall we have a drink?"

"Please," Bellamy dismissed, following Jasper and Jon as they made their way toward the bar through the crowds. The music, which was soft and refined, played over speakers as they passed under them, making Bellamy immediately aware of how noisy it was in there. He hadn't expected so many people at such an exclusive banquet. When they reached the bar, Jasper waved at the bar tender, motioning at Jon and Bellamy before turning around to look at them again.

"So, are we excited about tonight?" he asked, eyeing Bellamy. "After all, tonight is the night all of our lives change."

"Not everyone's," Bellamy retorted, eyeing Jasper. "Just mine and Jon's."

"Nervous?" Jon asked, taking the drink from Jasper as the bartender started handing them out.

"Impatient," Bellamy corrected, taking his glass. "I just want to get this done and over with. These last few weeks have had me entirely on edge."

"I can't believe you're going to show off here," Murphy continued, waving Bellamy off. "I mean, it's pretty public and I think most of the room will immediately be offended."

"That's probably the impact my father was going for," Bellamy shrugged, taking a large drink from his glass. "I'm not the only one who's going to be offending people tonight. I'm assuming Clarke will make her move tonight and choose to be escorted by you."

"Listen to him," Jasper smiled, bringing his glass to his lips. "He sounds so melancholy."

"He's been brooding quite a lot," Jon pointed, motioning to his hair. "Look, did you even brush it or did you just roll out of bed?"

"Shut up," Bellamy warned, taking another drink. "You're not the one announcing their engagement to a princess of Azgeda tonight. I can be as casual as I want; I'm not here to impress."

"Liar," Jasper noted. "You're here to impress, you just don't want to admit it."

"He's just trying to act cool," Jon chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. "He wants to impress Clarke with how easily he's forgotten her."

"Our Bellamy is a sore loser," Jasper stated, making Bellamy glare at him.

"You two are impossible," Bellamy ground out. "I don't know why I tell you anything."

"Because, we're your friends and we care?" Jasper asked, a comical smirk on his face.

"And because no one else is going to tolerate your moodiness or your moping," Jon offered up, high-fiving Jasper casually.

"Just leave me alone," Bellamy waved, turning from them now. "I'm going to have another drink." He downed the rest of his glass before setting it back on the bar, finding himself a stool to sit on at the opposite end of the bar. It was a pretty good seat, perfect to spot any newcomers and to watch his family.

Ever since his father worked with Clarke to come to an arrangement, he's been weary of his plots and schemes. Bellamy didn't trust his father to truly protect his mother, his sister, or himself. What was worse was that he didn't trust his father to care about what they wanted. He'd bowled right over Bellamy and in the process, shattered any trust between them. Bellamy could never forgive his father's betrayal, just like he could never really forgive Clarke for just giving up.

He motioned to the bartender to come over now, ordering an ale with a nod. He glanced about the room now, noticing that Octavia was happily talking with Kat and Harper. He spotted his father and mother still talking to Ichiru and turned back to watch Octavia. He continued to silently sip his ale, appreciating how much fun Octavia was having. This was her first official banquet; prior to this she'd never attended a public affair.

"I thought that was you," came a silky-smooth voice from his left and he immediately turned to see Raven Reyes, her eyes narrowing on him. Bellamy didn't want to be shocked by her appearance but at the same time he didn't think he'd ever have a reason to speak to the girl in front of him. She must have noticed his confusion because she just chuckled happily, pointing at his mug. "What are you drinking?"

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! I love my readers so much! You guys are awesome. Please review.**


	19. Chapter 19: Don't Deny Destiny

**Those who cannot acknowledge themselves are bound to fail. - Itachi Uchiha**

* * *

"Ale," Bellamy smirked, holding up his mug. He then turned around, leaning against the bar as he watched her closely. "What can I do for you?"

"I was hoping to get a chance to talk to you," Raven smiled, glancing about the room. "How's the shoulder?"

"Better," he admitted, glancing over at her. "I've started training again and I'm seeing a good doctor and physical therapist."

"So I've heard," Raven grinned, tilting her head to the side while she observed him. "Mind answering a question for me?"

"That depends on the question," Bellamy retorted, eyeing her curiously.

"It's just a question," Raven replied, holding up her hand as if to deflect his suspicion. "Besides, Clarke is my best friend so I am duty-bound to ask. If I don't look out for her, who will?"

"Any number of people, I imagine," Bellamy replied, downing the rest of his ale and glaring at her.

"She does have that effect," Raven chuckled, waving at the bartender as he spotted her. He walked over, a cheerful smile on his face as he looked between them. "Hey Sam, I'll take a mug of ale," Raven said, winking at him.

"I was wondering if I'd see you tonight," Sam chuckled. "It's been a while."

"Been working on a new project at the A.R.F.," Raven smiled, glancing over at Bellamy. "And I think someone ought to watch over this one."

"I don't need a babysitter," Bellamy replied, looking between the bartender and Raven.

"So, you like to drink alone?" Raven asked, a sly smile on her face as Sam filled her a mug.

"Why are you bothering me?" Bellamy asked, glancing over at her. "Are you trying to piss me off or something?"

After Sam handed Raven her drink and disappeared, she chuckled, taking a sip before turning on her stool to face Bellamy. "Clarke tells me everything, you know," Raven smirked. "I spoke with her earlier and from what I've gathered, neither of you are doing too hot."

"Baiting me like some sort of fish isn't going to help you," Bellamy mumbled, looking over the selection of alcohol behind the bar in front of him. "What is your question?"

"Baiting you?" Raven asked, eyeing him coldly. "You brood a lot, don't you?"

"Is that your question?"

"No," she shook her head, taking a drink. "I'm just wondering what's going on inside that head of yours. Do you need a good punch to the face to jumpstart your brain or what?"

"Is that supposed to be a threat?" Bellamy asked, his eyes narrowed on the dark-haired girl next to him. "Don't throw your empty threats at me, Reyes."

"I'm a genius with access to volatile chemicals," Raven smirked, nudging him with her elbow. "Do you really want to cross that line?"

"What do you want, then?" Bellamy ground out, motioning for Sam to refill his ale. "I didn't come here to be nagged."

"I want you to stop drinking and listen to what I have to say," Raven said, waving Sam off. Bellamy looked at her now, his eyes narrowed through the curtain of curly black hair falling over his forehead. Raven eyed him a moment before taking a drink of her ale, facing forward again. "I shouldn't have to remind you what is at stake for Clarke, should she choose the wrong husband."

"I'm well aware," Bellamy hissed, looking down at his empty cup. "She's made the right choice; marrying Jon is her best bet at this point."

"I know you made a compromise with her," Raven continued, her eyes never leaving the cup in front of her. "And I know she appreciates it because whether you honor your promise or not, she still sees it as a step toward a peaceful future."

"And your point being?"

"If you are serious about Clarke," Raven continued, her eyes closed in annoyance at the man next to her. "You better respect her because she's willing to gamble everything to keep us all safe, even if that means betraying her own feelings."

"She has no other choice," Bellamy scoffed, turning around on the stool and leaning back against the bar. "If she was smart, she'd marry Jon, have children, and not cause any waves."

"She might," Raven commented into her mug before taking a drink. "But she might also have made other choices. Is that alright with you? I mean, could you stand to see her with another man?"

"Why do you care what I want?" Bellamy spat, eyeing her over his shoulder. "You should be looking out for Clarke, not me. You've asked far too many questions as it is."

"Self-pity does not suit you," Raven noted, taking a drink of her ale. "Whether either of you want to admit it, you're perfect for one another," Raven ground out, her voice barely above a whisper. "You're both too stubborn to just give into it and neither of you will make the first real move. I don't like it and I don't really like you but I can't let my friend make a huge mistake like marrying a man she doesn't love. She's already in enough danger."

"You must really hate Murphy if you're coming to me," Bellamy grinned, looking over at her. "Why? Why would you encourage Clarke to choose me? We may be alike in some respects but she and I don't exactly see eye-to-eye." Bellamy turned back around now, facing Raven. "Do you honestly think I'll pass up this chance to destroy her family once and for all? Don't you think we're being generous by allowing her to marry one of our own?"

"I'm not stupid," Raven growled, glancing at him. "But unlike you, I sincerely believe in Clarke's vision for the future of Arkadia. Marrying you wouldn't just be the ultimate prize; it wouldn't just be bringing together the two warring factions with an unbreakable contract." She then turned sideways, facing him as well so that they were both eye to eye. "It's about love, passion, and the bond I know you two share. Plus, I know you wouldn't hurt her, no matter how much it may benefit you. I can see it in your eyes; you have real feelings for her."

Raven only grinned at Bellamy as they both stared at one another. He couldn't understand how Raven had seen what he never intended to feel. Now that it was out there, spoken by someone so close to the issue, he felt a sense of panic. He didn't like the way Raven scrutinized him, saw right through the mask of disinterest and cunning but somehow, she'd pinpointed it. His stomach flipped and his head swam and for the first time in two weeks, he allowed himself to truly consider Clarke's words. Raven must have noticed the color drain from his face because she placed a hand on his good shoulder, steadying him on the stool.

"Bellamy?" she said, her voice sounding a little distant. "Bellamy?"

"I'm fine," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "I'm fine!"

"Mental exhaustion is just as bad as physical, maybe even worse," Raven suggested, moving to steady him again. Bellamy pushed her away, regaining his composure as he took a few deep breaths.

"Listen," he finally said, watching her closer, his casual demeanor returning. "I can't really worry about Clarke or her problems anymore. There is something more important that's about to happen and I can't keep wondering about what could have been."

"But you do love her," Raven offered, setting her ale down. "And in your own crooked way, you're doing this to protect her."

"Of course I am," Bellamy replied, rolling his eyes. He sighed deeply now, rubbing the back of his neck slowly. He felt stupid, like Raven had beat him at a game he never knew he was playing. She had a knowing but soft look on her face as he glanced up at her, a sheepish blush coming over his cheek. "Just don't tell anyone else," Bellamy scoffed, a smirk forming on his face. "We can keep that our little secret."

"We could…" Raven said, looking at the room about them. People were dancing, talking, laughing, and Bellamy could see the performers getting ready to set up for the acrobatics show. "But you'll have to do something for me."

"Such as?" Bellamy asked, his eyebrow quirked in mild curiosity.

"Don't let Clarke marry someone else," she almost whispered, her voice icy cold and her eyes dark. Bellamy could almost feel the anger and fear radiating from her.

"I already told Clarke I was done," he nodded, glancing down at her stern face. "But why do you hate Murphy so much? He's not a bad guy…"

"Never mind Murphy," Raven assured, her lips pulling into a tight line. "This isn't about Murphy anymore."

"You have my attention," Bellamy said, motioning for her to continue. Bellamy was curious about what she could possibly know that he didn't. "Tell me."

Raven didn't look at him, didn't even acknowledge his question as they stood there in uneasy silence. Bellamy felt like she was holding back but desperate to let loose, afraid of what it would mean if she spoke. Bellamy's interest was undoubtedly peaked and for a moment, he wondered what could be so dangerous and so mysterious. Murphy had always been his close friend and a brother. Why was Raven so opposed to the match?

"Raven," Bellamy said again, this time a little firmer. "What do you know?"

"I can't tell you," Raven replied, her eyes on the ground. "I want to tell you but I'm afraid if I do, you'll put Clarke in danger."

"You're not making any sense," Bellamy urged, moving her away from the rest of the people at the bar. "Why would I put Clarke in danger?"

"Just promise me you won't let Clarke marry someone else," Raven said, her eyes narrowing on him. "Promise me."

"She's already worked out everything with my father," Bellamy sighed, shaking his head. "She gave up on us and set me aside just to get the powerful alliance she wanted. What more can be done?"

"I'll give you one bit of advice," Raven said, her voice less icy, her face more relaxed as she leaned in to whisper to him. "Follow your heart."

"That's your advice?" Bellamy asked, his eyes wide. "Follow my heart? You're joking, right?"

"It's all you need to see the truth, Bellamy," Raven groaned, looking a bit exasperated. "Like I told you earlier; she is willing to gamble everything on the man she chooses. That includes her heart, her career, and the future of her family. She's not thinking about the here-and-now or just one group of people. She's considering the future she wants for her children and all the children of Arkadia. Understand that and I know you'll understand why she is doing the things she is doing."

"Raven," Bellamy warned, standing up and stepping away from her. "We've never really spoken before this so I'll give you some advice. Don't talk to me about Clarke, her decisions, and her thoughts. As far as I am concerned, she's made her bed and now she has to lay in it."

"Bellamy please," Raven said, standing up as well. "You don't know everything."

"What don't I know?" Bellamy asked, rounding on her. "She used me and my family to form a powerful alliance. She never once considered what I felt for her and she never once cared what I really thought. She used me before I could use her and got me to let my guard down. She almost cost me everything and I wouldn't be surprised if the attack was all part of her plan!"

Bellamy was fuming now, a few people glancing over at him and Raven curiously. The music was loud enough so no one could overhear them but Bellamy's voice had become progressively louder as he berated Raven. She glared up at him defiantly, her eyes narrowed and her jaw set. She didn't look amused, or patient, and Bellamy knew she wasn't going to put up with it; Raven was as stubborn as she was brilliant.

"You're so pig-headed!" Raven hissed, glaring up at him. "Listen to what I am telling you! There is something going on that you don't see and if you don't take this opportunity to prevent it, you'll lose Clarke forever."  
"Just stop," Bellamy insisted, raising his hand. "I don't know what you're getting out of this or what good it is doing but getting a rise out of me is just pointless. It's over and I don't really care anymore."

He then turned from her, without another word, and walked off to go join Monty, Jon, and Harper. He could see Monty and Harper were in some sort of discussion and Jon was listening intently, taking a drink from the nearest waiter. As Bellamy approached, Jon nodded at him, nudging Monty with his arm. Monty's eyes met Bellamy's and it was obvious that something was going on.

"What?" Bellamy asked, his voice low, glancing about for what could have set them off.

"It's not a what," Jon commented, glancing over his shoulder. "More like a who."

"I've just gotten word from the guard outside," Harper explained, her arm linked with Monty's. He wasn't looking too pleased and for a moment, Bellamy could have sworn he was clenching his fists. "The Griffin's have arrived with-"

"So?" Bellamy asked, glaring at Monty. "You knew they were coming. Are you going to act like this every time they show up somewhere?"

"Shut the hell up," Monty ground out, his eyes immediately finding Bellamy's. There was instant anger and disgust written in them. "Don't you dare condescend to speak like that to me. This is all your damn fault!"

"Shh…" Harper said, pulling on Monty's arm. "Bellamy, they didn't arrive alone. My guards contacted me, look!" Bellamy took the handheld from her as she held it out to him, his eyes narrowing on the screen as he read the short message.

 _GRIFFIN'S HAVE ARRIVED WITH AZGEDA DELEGATION; CLARKE BEING ESCORTED BY ROAN._

Bellamy had to reread the message twice before Harper snatched the handheld away from him. The creature that had been stirring inside him, turning and desperate to break free, was going mad. He could feel the heat rising in his stomach and filling his chest, the jealousy and rage overwhelming. He'd never been so angry before, so incredibly furious and immediately he knew why Monty had turned on him. Neither of them had seen this coming and it was entirely Bellamy's fault. He knew Clarke would have never considered an Azgeda match had he not already considered it himself. He'd presented her with an ultimatum but he hadn't realized that there was always another choice. He had been played by Clarke and now, to achieve her peaceful agenda, they would be related by blood.

Bellamy turned about now, his eyes searching the crowd for Raven and when he spotted her, she froze. What she had said, what she'd tried to explain to him, he understood now. There was something much larger at work and Bellamy hadn't even begun to play the game. Before he could approach Raven to ask her what was going on, Jon grabbed his good arm, turning him to look across the dance floor. There, at the entrance of the room were the final, and most anticipated, guests of the night.

A square faced man who Bellamy instantly assumed was Roan, was standing in the entry of the room. The music played on and only a few people started noticing the newcomers but as they made their way further into the room, more people took notice. Though the room was filled with music, conversations, and whispers, Bellamy could have heard a pin drop. Roan was tall with wide shoulders; he was wearing a simple white tunic laced together with ice-blue thread and dark leather breeches. Bellamy could see the silver chain around his neck, the Azgeda signet stamped on the simple but elegant pendant. On his head sat a bone crown, interweaved with his own dull brown locks and silver and bone trinkets. He was an intimidating man and Bellamy instantly felt sickened by the woman standing next to him.

Clarke had laced her fingers together and the sheer size difference between she and Roan was quite noticeable. Whereas Bellamy only towered a few inches over her, Roan towered almost a head. However, this didn't demean or mute Clarke. In fact, most eyes were probably taking in her outfit; Bellamy included. She was wearing a deep blue halter-top dress that hugged her curves entirely too closely. She had silver jewelry on, matching the man beside her, inlaid with precious stones. He could see the way the dress flowed, her hair shimmered, and her body hummed with nobility, making him even more sick when he saw Roan's large hand on her hip. His eyes swept over her again and need filled him before he spotted something in her hair. Perched atop her head, firmly fixed in her golden coils, was a bone and silver crown, much like Roans. It was smaller, more elegant, but it also had a few precious stones inlaid into the silver.

"Bell," Jon said, gaining his attention briefly. "Bell, what's going on? I thought-?"

"I don't know," he admitted, his eyes instantly snapping back to the group as they met Thelonious and the others in the crowd. Bellamy could spot Jake and Abby, smiles on their faces as they introduced Roan to the others. Bellamy also saw that along with him was princess Roya, being escorted by the ambassador he'd met before at his home. Syd looked somewhat different, dressed in official Azgeda robes and trinkets, his arm held out for Roya as they started speaking to various ambassadors and nobles.

"You better find out," Monty said, his eyes narrowed. "Do you understand what this means?"

"Yes," Bellamy snapped, glaring at Monty. It was then that Bellamy saw his father, standing to the side behind Aurora and Octavia. Bellamy could tell instantly that this wasn't something his father had planned; in fact, Kayden looked just as furious as Bellamy. He'd never been so angry and Bellamy knew that this was as unexpected to him as it was to everyone else. At this, Bellamy couldn't help but grin; his father had thought that he'd gotten all he'd ever wanted without so much as a fight. Bellamy was elated at the ironic and karmic justice that was washing over his father at that moment. He also felt the fear and frustration of uncertainty, finding Clarke again in the crowd. He almost physically jumped when he spotted those deep blue eyes on his.

He froze, their gazes lingering on one another fearfully. Bellamy immediately recognized it in Clarke, never seeing this much hesitation and pleading in her eyes before. She was looking right at him, Roan oblivious to the fact as he spoke with the others around them. Bellamy felt that longing again, ripping through his abdomen and chest, threatening to burst free. All he wanted to do was run to her, pull her from Roan's arm and take her in his own. She must have seen the yearning and the confusion in Bellamy's eyes because he could see a slight blush before she squared her jaw, a desperate plea overtaking her face.

"What do we do?" Harper asked, gaining Bellamy's attention. "What does this mean?"

"There is nothing you can do," came a voice from behind them and Bellamy froze. It was Kayden, all four teens turning to look at him. "It seems that while we were bickering and fighting against one another's plans, someone else was making plans of their own."

"But sir," Monty piped up, trying to remain calm. "There has to be something…"

"This is no longer in my hands," Kayden sighed, his voice a mixture of defeat and anger. "We cannot possibly afford to back out of the Azgeda alliance now, even if it hasn't been announced." Kayden then looked back over Bellamy's shoulder, spotting nodding at Syd who had spotted his gaze.

"There has to be- "

"You don't understand," Kayden said, looking back at them now. "If we back out, we're finished. The full might of the Azgeda army, and crown, behind the Griffin family would doom us all. Bellamy's marriage to Roya is the only thing stopping it now."

"This is all your fault," Bellamy hissed, his eyes narrowed on his father. "If you'd have been patient, given me just a few more days with Clarke, we could have avoided this all!"

"It wouldn't have mattered," Kayden commented, motioning for them to look. Princess Roya and her brother were making their way through the crowd toward Kayden and Bellamy, all of them smiling and bowing respectfully.

"Kayden Blake," Roan said, offering his hand. "It's good to finally meet you and your son. Bellary, right?"

"Bellamy," Kayden corrected, smiling down at Roya. "You look lovely tonight princess."

"Thank you," she nodded, looking up at Bellamy curiously. "How are you tonight, Bellamy?"

"Well," Bellamy said, his voice a bit icier than he intended. "Not as well as others."

"We were very surprised at your choice of escort," Kayden spoke up, making the two siblings look at him. "We were unaware Prince Roan was entertaining a suit."

"For a while now I've contemplated taking a bride," Roan admitted, his jaw still squared and his mouth pressed in an even line. He looked entirely too serious for this occasion and it only encouraged Kayden to try and be more hospitable.

"What a fine choice," Kayden admitted, motioning to Clarke who was standing with her parents and Ambassador Syd. "I've heard nothing but good things about the Griffin heiress." Kayden then turned to Monty and Harper, smiling tightly at them. "Right? Didn't you attend academy with Clarke Griffin?"

"Yes, we know her quite well," Monty admitted, unsure what to say next. In truth, he was the person who knew the least about Clarke.

"She's a friend," Harper interjected, a soft smile on her face. "And she's an excellent doctor."

"I appreciate that she's a skilled healer," Roan admitted, smiling back at Kayden. "Perhaps she can teach our healers the Arkadian ways of healing."

"I'm sure she'd be delighted," Kayden affirmed. "She's always been inclined toward peace."

"I have been told," Roan smiled, his sly grin making Bellamy uncomfortable. "She will make a fine queen and mother."

"Enough about your new bride," Roya admonished, smirking up at Roan. "He's quite taken with her, you know? I don't think she's that interesting; she can't even fight."

"Not ever woman is a warrior," Roan warned, looking down at Roya. "And you're quite pleased with your fiancé as well." Roan motioned toward Bellamy, making Roya blush for the very first time. Bellamy noted her embarrassment and how Roan smirked, chuckling at her before turning toward Kayden again. "So, about this Blake alliance…"

"It seems I've arrived just in time," came Syd's voice, stepping around Roan to greet Kayden. Everyone else had faded into the background for them, Bellamy maintaining his squared shoulders and rigid stance. It was then that Roan finally met Bellamy's eye, the disinterest evident as he looked the younger man over.

"I'm not entirely sure we have much to talk about, ambassador," Bellamy quipped, looking away from Roan dismissively. "It seems Azgeda has already found itself an Arkadian alliance."

"Bellamy!" his father warned, glaring over at him. "Now is not the time for your childish games."

"You're a bold boy, aren't you?" Roan asked, eyeing Bellamy. "Like father, like son, eh?"

"I'm afraid so," Kayden admitted, glancing at Roya who was watching them with a confused stare. "But he is right. We weren't expecting you to make the Griffin heiress the future queen."

"Ah," Syd said, smiling nervously. "You see, Queen Nia believed it best to marry into both families, lest there be any doubts of Azgeda's commitment to Arkadia. We, as a neighboring nation, feel it is important to keep diplomatic ties as well as familial."

"It would also be foolish to turn down such a generous and powerful match," Roan pointed, his voice low and somber. "A marriage to my sister, the only princess of Azgeda, is the only assurance that you have if you hope to remain in power."

"Bellamy would never presume to turn down Azgeda royalty," Kayden chimed, smiling happily. Bellamy glanced at him briefly before grinning tightly. His father was right; they couldn't turn it down and they couldn't reconsider. "Princess Roya is an ideal match for Bellamy. Both seek the thrill of battle and glory and both are young and but wise beyond their years."

"We should toast on it," Monty chimed in, a smile on his face as he raised his glass. Bellamy felt Jon shove a mug into his hand and they all toasted, a smile spreading over both Roya and Syd's faces.

"Perfect," Roya smiled, looking up at Bellamy. "I'm so glad you feel this way. Out of all my suitors, you're the most appealing."

"Happy to be of service," Bellamy replied, a wide but hollow smile on his face. Kayden didn't miss the hint of sarcasm in Bellamy's voice or the way he glanced over at him angrily.

"I hope to further discuss the match while we're in Arkadia," Roan nodded, turning to Syd. "Now, where is the Commander's ambassador? We must show our respects."

"I'll find you later," Roya smirked, waving at Bellamy as she followed Syd and her brother.

Once they were gone, Kayden rounded on Bellamy, his eyes dangerously narrowed. "Don't you ever do anything like that again," he commanded, making Bellamy glare back at him. "Do you understand? This is what must be done; thanks to your precious princess, our family and our people must bow to a Griffin queen and eventually, a Griffin king."

Kayden then turned from the group, walking calmly toward his wife and a few other friends. After he was gone, Bellamy turned to the rest of the group, most of them still in shock at the unpredictable turn of events.

"Harper, keep your men on alert and tell them to watch all the entrances to the embassy," Bellamy nodded, glancing at Jon. "You move some of your men and my men to watch the city gates; be discrete about it."

"What good is any of this going to do?" Monty asked, sipping on his drink. "This isn't anyone else's fault but your own. You played right into Clarke and Jake's hands."

"This isn't about us or them anymore," Bellamy ground out, grasping Monty's collar and pulling him close. "Azgeda is our main concern now so stop whining and log onto the mainframe. I want you to monitor every emergency station and every guard post on the radio. If Azgeda makes any moves, I want to be the first to know about it."

Bellamy gruffly let go of Monty, turning from them all with heated eyes. He was determined to find out what was going on and he knew just who to talk to. He almost knocked someone over scanning the crowd for the familiar mechanic's chestnut locks.

* * *

Clarke shuffled on the spot, her arms firmly wrapped around her torso as she hid. She couldn't believe she was hiding but the fact that she was hiding from Roan of Azgeda made it that much more daunting. When he'd met her at their villa earlier that night, he'd instantly intimidated her. She normally stood her ground but the man she was faced with was something she'd never encountered before. She could see it on his face and in his eyes; he was a real killer. He'd taken life in battle and as revenge and Clarke knew he was dangerous. She wondered why she drew such a distinction between Roan and Bellamy when Bellamy has blood on his hands as well. However, she never realized how uncomfortable Roan made her, how vulnerable she felt, until his arm was wrapped around her waist. She wanted to pull away, to run from him and find safety but she knew that just wasn't possible. Now, she was at the ambassador's banquet, dressed in something she knew she'd regret, hiding in a coat-room that she knew hadn't been used in at least a decade.

The forwardness of Roan and the ease he displayed in dealing with her, and her parents, that evening was something that frightened Clarke. Even if she could get out of this, she would be putting more people in danger. The thought of being with prince Roan made her sharply aware of her feelings for Bellamy and before she could control it, she felt the yearning to run to him again. How did Roan frighten her so much? She just couldn't understand the warning that welled in her heart.

"Clarke?" came a familiar voice and she peaked between the racks, spotting Raven.

"Back here," Clarke called, Raven shutting the door behind her softly and locking it. She crept back to Clarke, navigating around discarded hooks and shelves toward a dusty old window. Clarke was standing there, grateful for the small amount of moonlight that was coming in.

"We don't have much time," Raven assured, grabbing Clarke's arms.

"Did you talk to him? Did he listen? Did he agree to meet-?"

"I tried," Raven sighed, squeezing Clarke's arms gently. "I've tried all night but we've been here two hours and he still refuses to meet with you."

"He's such a stubborn ass," Clarke swore, making Raven grin. "He's so damn difficult."

"And you're not?"

"I made a huge mistake," Clarke said, panic overtaking her. "I chose the wrong match, I chose not to tell Bellamy the truth, and I chose to believe that I could do nothing about it." Clarke felt on edge, her nerves rattling as she tried desperately to pull herself together. "I don't love Roan, I don't want to marry him."

"Clarke," Raven said, grasping her arms tighter. "Clarke!" she hissed, making her blonde-haired friend look at her. "Listen to me, we need to figure out a way to convince Bellamy that you love him."

"H-how?" Clarke asked, feeling completely unhinged, her head feeling light. "I can't even convince him to meet with me. If he only knew about his father…"

"Clarke," Raven begged, pulling her friend toward a discarded and dusty bench. They both sat down, Clarke completely transfixed by her own mind, the problems swirling around faster than she could ever understand. "Clarke, you have to just tell him how you feel."

"How?!" Clarke asked, her voice sounding quite melancholic. She buried her face in her hands now, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "How can I prove that? How can I get his attention? How could I face him again and tell him how I feel?" Clarke pulled her hands down, looking at Raven sternly, a wild look in her eyes. "What does he want me to do? Jump off a cliff? Kill the Azgeda delegation? Assassinate Roan?"

"That was dark," Raven admitted, a look of total shock coming over her face.

"It's all Kayden's fault," Clarke ground out, trying to regain her grip on reality. "Him and my father and their constant rivalry. Don't they understand? Don't they even care what it's doing to their children? Azgeda will have full control over Arkadia!"

"Clarke, they knew what they were doing," Raven nodded, glancing out the window. "They knew what would come if they reached out to Azgeda."

"But my own father!" Clarke hissed, wrapping her arms around herself again. "He didn't care how I felt. He set this up years ago and Kayden Blake was willing to sell out his own son, sacrifice his happiness, for more power. How can I possibly face that alone when Bellamy won't even talk to me?"

"You have to tell him the truth," Raven nodded, a slight smile on her lips. "Everything."

"He'll never believe me," Clarke whispered, her eyes darting out the window. She felt completely lost, alone, and afraid. The idea of Roan touching her, kissing her, and sharing her bed made her skin crawl. The thought of his arms holding her and her children made her stomach turn in defiance. She quickly clasped her hand over her mouth, Raven reaching out to hold her steady. After a moment, and a few deep breaths, Clarke composed herself, looking at Raven with heartbreaking despondence.

"I thought I was always one step ahead," Clarke whispered, tears forming in her eyes. "I always thought that I knew myself, that I understood what needed to be done and how to do it. Now, I'm so afraid. Raven, I've lost the only person in this world that I know could have truly loved me. I've lost everything and my heart feels like it's shattered into a million pieces."

"Clarke…"

"It hurts more than anything I've ever felt before," Clarke sobbed, tears falling down her cheeks. "Why? Why did I let myself fall for him?"

"That's not the problem," Raven cooed, pulling Clarke against her gently. "That's not the problem at all. It's okay to love him; he may be a total ass half the time but you need each other."

"I need to do something," Clarke said, pushing away the tears on her face and trying to regain her composure. "I need to figure out how I can get out of this. If Bellamy won't help, I'm going to have to save myself." She pulled away from Raven now, standing up and squaring her shoulders. "I'll find a way to get out of this Azgeda alliance and save our people alone if I have to."

"I'll help you," Raven said, standing as well. "And so will Finn, Wells, Landell, Kat, Jon… I even think we can convince Harper to help as well."

"We need a plan," Clarke nodded, looking at the door desperately.

"I tried convincing him to talk to you," Raven agreed, moving toward the door. "I tried to explain what was going but Bellamy didn't want to hear it from me." Raven then smirked, unlocking the door. "He had to hear it from you."

She slowly opened the door now, Clarke watching her incredulously as it quickly swung open. The light was faint on the other side, the closet just off the main foyer of the embassy. Clarke saw someone in the doorway but before she could register who it was, the door shut behind him and a pair of familiar arms embraced her. She almost fell into his grip, the scent of pine and earthy musk filling her nostrils as she clutched Bellamy tightly. She didn't understand why or how but he was there, his arms holding her against his chest, his hands traveling up to cradle her cheeks.

"You're welcome," Raven said, opening the door again to reveal Finn and Jon. She waved faintly before disappearing through the door, leaving the two teens in one another's arms.

* * *

"Bellamy," Clarke whispered breathlessly, grasping his collar in her hands as he held her. "W-what happened? I don't understand. I thought- "

"I love you," Bellamy replied, his other hand gently cupping her chin. Before she could respond, his lips had melded into hers, desperately searching for a response. Clarke reacted adamantly, pulling him close as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Bellamy let his hands roam, sliding them down her side and to her back, urgently holding her as close as he could get. She was like liquid fire, warming every part of him and the longer they remained intertwined, the further away the world seemed. It was only after a few minutes that they broke apart, both breathing heavily as they pressed their foreheads together.

Bellamy could feel the way her chest heaved and her lip trembled and wanted to taste her again. He had to hold himself back, wantonly grinding himself against her during their kiss. He wasn't sure if she'd surprised her but she didn't seem to care, her arms never loosening around his neck. He could smell the scent of lavender and honey, a sweet scent that had pushed him over the edge the moment he'd taken her into his arms. How could he resist? How could he have ever believed that she'd betray him?

"Bellamy," she whispered, gaining his attention again. He didn't dare look away from those deep blue eyes as she spoke, putty in his arms. "What happened? I thought you hated me?"

"You really should thank Raven," he whispered, kissing her lips tenderly. She had to push him away this time, staring up at him curiously. A smile formed over his cheeks now, making the dimples Clarke loved so much appear. "She came up with a plan."

"I don't understand," Clarke replied, watching him amusedly. "What plan?"

"She tried telling me something else was going on but I wouldn't listen," Bellamy confessed, pulling her flush against him, resting his chin gently on the top of her head. He felt her sigh comfortably and nestle against him, his heart fluttering at her touch. "So, she said she'd prove it. She said she and Wick had been working on a mini-cam that blends in with fabric. I didn't believe her but she hooked up my handheld to the cam and I heard everything just now."

Clarke grasped his shirt now, looking up at him wondrously. "Everything? She asked, her eyes wide.

"I heard what you said about our fathers, about Roan, and about how you feel," Bellamy whispered, taking her hands in his. "Raven set it all up and I am so sorry. I never should have gotten angry, I should have tried harder and- "

This time Clarke captured his lips, the urgency that much more tumultuous as they embraced, their fingers laced together gradually. Bellamy loved the feel of her hand in his, the roughness tempered by gentle compassion as he caressed her fingers with his. She didn't want the kiss to end, the bliss they felt being together interrupted by Bellamy's own curiosity and urgency.

"Clarke," he replied, glancing at the door. "We don't want anyone to notice us missing."

"I don't want to leave you," she replied, her voice a mix of fear and longing.

"We can't do anything tonight," Bellamy replied, pulling apart their hands and placing his around her waist. She wrapped her arms around his stomach now, refusing to let him go. "Clarke," he warned, kissing the top of her head. She didn't respond, instead tightening her grip around him. He couldn't help but sigh at this, pulling her that much closer, his hands going around her shoulders to hold her. After another moment, Bellamy pulled away from her golden curls, the scent of honey overwhelming as he tried to lean back and gaze at her face.

"Princess," he cooed, making her instantly stiffen, her hands loosening slightly. He didn't know if he enjoyed this reaction from her, the way she slowly tilted her head to look at him a bit amusing. She looked entirely guilty, like someone who was about to be reprimanded for something and Bellamy immediately felt the rolling heat that pooled in his stomach.

"I only like that nickname when you use it," she confessed, meeting his eyes. "I'm the princess and you're my knight."

"Please," Bellamy smiled, cupping her face in his hands. "It's going to be hard enough watching you with _him_ the rest of the night. I can't get through it if I'm imagining that look on your face."

"We need to come up with a plan," Clarke pointed, pulling away. "What are we going to do?"

"I don't know," Bellamy whispered, his hands lingering on her upper arms as she looked up at him. "I've been trying to figure that out since the moment I saw you with him but I have to ask you. When you told Raven that it was all my father's fault, what did you mean? What really happened that day?"

Bellamy was stunned silent as she explained everything. She told him about the supply-run being a lure to draw him out and how his father knew it was Azgeda's vengeance the moment they were attacked. She told him about his father's dealings and schemes but she also told him about Jake's. He could see the frustration and the shame in her eyes as she spoke, making everything fall into place. She'd done all of this to protect Bellamy and he never imagined it to be a possibility. She'd sacrificed her happiness and her families position to keep him safe from Azgeda assassins. It was all her and when she finally explained what her father had done, Bellamy immediately felt guilty.

She'd shouldered this burden alone, without help, these past few weeks. In that time, she's still helped Jon, worked at the hospital, and kept an eye on his recovery all while maintaining the façade of normalcy. She'd let herself be used, hated, and heartbroken to save not only Bellamy but his entire family. Clarke knew the risks should Azgeda turn toward vengeance and she wanted to avoid it at all costs.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, grasping his tunic again. "Bellamy, you have to believe me; I didn't want any of this to happen."

"None of this is your fault," he murmured, a soft smile on his face. "You were trying to save me without any regard for yourself or your family. You knew it was the only thing you could do to keep me safe and I love you for it."

He pulled her into his arms again, this time lifting her from the ground and spinning about. He could see the surprise and heat in her eyes as he pressed her to the dusty wall, his hands immediately grasping her hips. She kept her arms around his neck, gently nipping his ear as he pressed against her. It was electric, the way her body arched against his and almost hummed with satisfaction. He'd never felt this before and when she moved to capture his lips, he couldn't help but rasp against her. She was amazing, the feel of their bodies melding so closely together shocking even him. Before it could get too heated, Bellamy heard a soft rap on the door. He immediately set her down, dodging into the shadows as she fixed her hair and dusted herself off.

Bellamy was both relieved and disappointed to see Raven. She looked between them a moment before shutting the door quietly. "Come on," she said, motioning for Clarke. "They are going to notice we're not back yet, any moment."

"Go," Bellamy urged, taking Clarke's hand as she moved toward him. "Go, I'll contact you later tonight."

"Promise?" she asked, pulling him close again. "Promise me you won't forget."

"Oh," he smirked, kissing her lips gently. "How could I?" he whispered, pulling away. "Go, before you're noticed."

"Jon's waiting for you in the corridor," Raven motioned, pulling Clarke behind her. Clarke looked over her shoulder at Bellamy one more time, a mixture of excitement and regret as the door shut behind them. Bellamy knew he had to cool off, straightening his tunic before dusting off his own clothes.

When he emerged from the dark room, into the dimly lit corridor, he spotted Jon waiting about half way down. He had a smirk on his face and a drink in hand when he spotted Bellamy, nodding for him to hurry. As they both emerged into the larger annex, Bellamy spotted Clarke rounding the corner into the foyer, the dress swaying behind her as she followed Raven. Jon almost had to snap his fingers to regain Bellamy's attention. He looked slightly amused at his best friend and for a moment, considered the right joke to make.

"So, how'd it go?" he asked, a decidedly safe question as they strolled toward the foyer themselves.

"We have to come up with a plan," Bellamy admitted, glancing at Jon. "I'm meeting her later tonight but we have to come up with some way to avoid these alliances."

"You know what that could mean, right?" Jon asked, eyeing Bellamy. "Azgeda would have just the excuse they need to go to war."

"The coalition would never allow it," Bellamy argued, looking about the foyer as they entered. He could see quite a few people enjoying the music and conversation but most were enjoying the dancing and feast within the hall. "The commander would never sanction an Azgeda war unless we drew first blood."

"Which we may have to if Azgeda retaliates against you two for refusing their suit," Jon whispered, motioning toward the stairs that lead up to the gallery.

"Azgeda has already drawn first blood," Bellamy commented, motioning for Jon to follow him as they made their way up the short flight of stairs. "It was Azgeda who ordered the attack on us in the north and the theft of the guns. What's worse is that my father knew it was them; he's been negotiating with them for the past year on this engagement."

"What?" Jon whispered as they passed someone on the landing above. They maneuvered around a few people seated on plush benches enjoying their wine and fruits and took a place where they couldn't be overheard.

"There's a lot we don't know or understand and I think it is time we started taking the future into our own hands," Bellamy suggested, his eyes narrowing. After telling Jon what Clarke had told him, both boys set themselves to figuring out a plan. They sat together in the gallery for a while, talking about possibly plans and consequences but Bellamy couldn't admit to paying full attention. Occasionally he'd glance down at the people feasting and dancing below and spot Clarke, watching as Roan stayed close to her the rest of the night. She would smile and talk to him and the others but Bellamy could tell it wasn't a real smile. He could see in the way she'd glance up at him sometimes, their eyes meeting briefly before she'd force herself to look away. He could have maintained that look forever but this last time, Jon had interrupted him.

"Bellamy," Jon reasoned, glancing down below. "Bellamy, we should bring Monty in on this. We've already got Harper monitoring the security around the building and Monty has been listening to his handheld all night."

"No," Bellamy urged, glancing over it at him. "I don't even want to get you involved either. They need to maintain plausible deniability."

"There is no chance at that," Jon pointed, shaking his head with a smirk. "Everyone knows we work together already."

"Then we need to keep them close," Bellamy nodded, glancing at Harper and Monty who were talking calmly with Kat and Jasper.

"We still haven't come up with a plan and I don't really think- " Jon stopped himself, his eyes going wide suddenly. A wicked grin then formed on his pointed face and Bellamy could see he had come up with something.

"What?" Bellamy hissed, glancing about them. "What did you come up with?"

"It's so obvious," Jon smirked, a chuckle escaping him. "So obvious…"

"What?" Bellamy replied, becoming impatient. "What is it?"

"Elope," Jon nodded, motioning over the balcony. "Meet with her tonight and marry her. You could both hide out at the southern estates, near the Trikru border. You can stay at my family estate! They'll never think to look for you there."

"Are you insane?" Bellamy asked, his eyes wide. "She'd never go for that and I don't want to run. I refuse to hide from that bastard or his mother."

"How are you going to face them head on?" Jon asked, his eyes going wide. "Are you nuts?"

"We know how to beat them," Bellamy nodded, looking over at Jon. "Clarke's had the answer this whole time. We need to combine our men, forgive old grudges, and come together to pool our resources. Doing that ensures that we not only strengthen our borders but it gives us a chance to do something our ancestors have never dreamt of doing."

"What?" Jon queried, his eyes narrowed. "I don't like that look on your face," he admitted, watching Bellamy. "That's usually not a good sign."

"Arkadia becomes the thirteenth clan in the coalition," Bellamy nodded, an incredulous look forming on Jon's face. "So far we've been allies with Trikru and a few others but we've never been offered a spot in conclave. All the other commanders and our ancestors wouldn't have dreamed of it but with this new commander, and Lexa, it is possible."

"You're seriously suggesting we pledge our troops to the grounder coalition?" Jon asked, his voice full of doubt. "They'll demand we teach them how to make guns and ammo; the commander has been after that for years."

"Not if he sees the imminent threat Azgeda poses," Bellamy reasoned, his voice low, barely above a whisper. "After Azgeda had control of Arkadia, who do you think they'd hit next?"

"Trikru," Jon admitted, his eyes growing wide in wonder. "Azgeda has always hated Trikru and after taking our land and technology, Trikru would almost be surrounded."

"Exactly," Bellamy nodded. "I know Lexa already knew about my suit with Roya but this new announcement has to have made her nervous. She and her father were leaders of Trikru before he became commander."

"You and Clarke need to speak with Lexa," Jon insisted, glancing over the balcony. "I'll go talk to her and you need to get back down there. You haven't been spoken with Roya in almost an hour; it will look suspicious."

"I'd almost forgotten about her," Bellamy smirked, standing up as Jon did. As they both made their way down the stairs, their plan loosely cobbled together, Bellamy spotted Clarke. She was watching him for a moment before she turned back to Raven, smiling kindly up at Roan as he spoke. It was that familiar beast again, gnawing and rattling in Bellamy's chest as he walked by them, pretending to be interested in his father across the dancefloor. He didn't even want to speak to his father and had to resist the urge to hit him as he approached. He could see the curiosity, and relief, in Roya's face when he met them, Bellamy easily falling into pleasantries and flirting. It was so much easier to fall into this routine when he knew that he actually had a plan for what came next. He only hoped that this one time, it worked out for them.

* * *

 **Final chapter is next! I do hope you enjoyed my story! Sequel to be updated and posted soon. Please review.**


	20. Chapter 20: Elope

**All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us. - Gandalf**

* * *

Clarke sat poised on the back wall of her family's garden, waiting for Bellamy to show. The night had been long and full of faces and Clarke wanted to see only one more that night. Ever since she spoke to Bellamy, she'd thought of nothing but schemes and plots. She tried desperately to think of a solution to this marriage; she hadn't come up with any viable options that entire night and by the time she had gotten home, she was beyond frustrated. She didn't even remember saying goodnight to Prince Roan, only that his hand had squeezed her hip a bit rougher than she'd expected. She could still feel the tenderness there from when he pulled her into his embrace for a hug and a soft, but quick, kiss.

He had let her go after that, allowing her to disappear into the villa as her parents wished him a good night. She didn't even bother stopping when her father called out to her from the bottom of the stairs either. She just went to her room, locked the door, and immediately jumped into the shower. She felt dirty, almost stained by Roan's hands and lips. She needed to remove the feeling of his hand on her hip and on her skin. He'd taken her hand at one point that night but she'd managed to pull away without being obvious. At one point, late into the night, he'd managed to wrap his arm around her and squeeze her rear, making a bright blush form on her face. She knew he noticed because his hand lingered over it, cupping before moving back to her waist. She'd felt her stomach turn and her knees weaken at that; it felt so wrong that she'd considered running away from him the rest of the night.

She'd showered quickly though, scrubbing her skin a little rougher than she normally would. Even the water didn't seem hot enough and when she'd finally changed into a dark hooded cloak and a pair of insulated leggings, her handheld went off. It was a simple text from Bellamy that told her to meet him behind her house in the alleyway in a few minutes. She didn't hesitate and didn't want to keep him waiting either, quickly making a rope out of her bedsheets. She strung them together in comedic fashion, making sure they'd hold before jumping from the second story window to repel down to the slanted terracotta style roof below.

From there it was a short climb down a waterpipe that led next to the small landscaping shed near the kitchens. She nearly sprinted, boots thumping down the lawn, toward the back fence. It was just stone and hedges but she'd elected to slide right between two hedges and perch on the wall, waiting impatiently for Bellamy. She had hoped he'd be waiting for her but she realized that it had barely been four minutes since she got his text. She doubted even he could run that fast; nevertheless, she sat waiting for him, peering down the alley toward the direction of his home. Her hood was closely drawn and she was almost entirely hidden from view in the hedges. She hoped Bellamy would hurry, the anticipation to hold him and feel his warm embrace sent shivers down her spine, making her stomach flip excitedly.

As she sat there, watching the alley, she couldn't help but think of what their future would hold. She'd always wondered about the future, always tried to plan and prepare, but this was entirely different. Clarke wanted to spend it with Bellamy, to share almost every waking minute near him. It was almost impossible now, no matter what path she considered, to picture her life without Bellamy. It was like something that switched in her mind, totally unbeknownst to her and she didn't want to switch it back. It was when she was picturing their children together that she spotted someone crest the top of the hill down the alley. The light was minimal but a single person, a man, was jogging down the alley toward where she hid. She thought that it was Bellamy and wanted to jump out and run to him but she stilled herself.

The man had a hood on and some simple dark cargo pants, his boots thudding as he approached. Clarke couldn't see the face but when he started to slow down near her home, she squinted, trying desperately to confirm whether it was him. She almost jumped out and waved to him but the man only stood, eyeing the villa for a moment. Clarke wasn't sure what he was looking at and now that he had sauntered closer to her hiding spot, she could tell that it wasn't Bellamy. She stayed quiet, covering her mouth and slowly breathing through her nose. She knew that if he approached any closer and observed the hedges, he'd see Clarke's boots and knees sticking out. She felt a chilling shiver roll up her spine as the panic started to seep in. She knew she couldn't panic and pull her legs back without making noise but he was getting closer, still looking up at the villa.

Then, up the alley echoed a soft thudding noise, making the man look over his shoulder. He paused briefly, looking up the street and then back at the villa before taking off in a sprint, clinging to the shadows of the far wall. Clarke held her breath as he passed, keeping as still as possible until he had gone where Clarke couldn't see him. She could see the faded streetlight at the end of the alley, leading out onto one of the main roads and watched as the shadow of the man crept around the corner out of sight. She almost sighed in relief at this, turning her attention back up the alley where another man had come jogging over the hill.

The moment he'd come closer and slowed to a creeping walk, Clarke knew it was him. She could see that familiar set of dark curls and when he'd come to a complete stop, she noticed the recognizable dimple in his chin as he looked at the hedges lining the alley. She almost flung herself from the hedges and before she'd realized it, he had taken a few strides toward her and enveloped her in his embrace.

"There you are," he whispered, kissing the top of her head gently. "I thought I might have to wait."

"I wasn't sure it was you at first," Clarke replied, her hands firmly gripping the back of his sweater as she held him. "Someone else came along before you."

"Someone else?" Bellamy asked, looking up and down the alley. "Who?"

"I don't know," Clarke replied, pulling him closer to the hedges and into the shadows. "A man, he had a hood on. I didn't see his face clearly and at first I thought he was you. I'm glad I didn't jump out in front of him; he was staring at my house."

Bellamy pulled back from her now, looking down into her face curiously. Clarke could tell he was puzzled and understandably worried and she couldn't help but smile at this. He noticed and grinned back, placing another small kiss on her forehead. She let out a soft sight as he did, pressing herself closer to him again. His embrace calmed her and for the first time in her life, love had frightened her. She had always thought herself a romantic at heart but it almost felt too perfect and she wondered if in exchange, she'd have to make some sort of sacrifice. Bellamy must have noticed her troubled thoughts because he grasped her shoulders, squeezing gently to bring her back to reality.

"S-sorry," she replied, looking up at him. "I was just thinking."

"I've been thinking too," he grinned, running his hands back down her arms, slowly lacing his fingers with hers. "I think I have a plan that'll stop this Azgeda alliance."

"Tell me," she urged, squeezing his hand. Clarke was watching him eagerly now, waiting on baited breath for any idea that would release her from her engagement to Roan. She didn't dare tell Bellamy about his touches and kisses from earlier and only hoped Bellamy had a legitimate solution to their problem. However, she noticed he was hesitating, his lips pressed in a firm line as he considered her. "What?" she finally asked, pulling him closer and pecking him gently on the lips. She lingered there only a moment, her forehead still pressed to his.

"What is it?" she urged again, her lips brushing his.

"Marry me," he breathed, the desperation in his voice making her open her eyes.

She stared into his dark pools, immediately entranced at the earnest pleading in his eyes. She'd never heard Bellamy's voice so graveled and strained, like something had completely sapped his self-confidence. She couldn't help but squeeze his hands in hers, an understanding smile overtaking her face as she watched him. It was endearing seeing Bellamy so vulnerable and because it was for her, it felt even more heartwarming.

"Of course," she replied, her eyes searching his.

"Now," he insisted, releasing her hands and wrapping his arms around her waist. "Marry me tonight. We can elope and then Azgeda wouldn't be able to do anything about it. We can find a witness and- "

"Tonight?" she whispered, grasping his sweater between her fingers. She understood why he looked so desperate; he wasn't sure if she'd agree to such an unceremonious marriage. He was right to be weary; Clarke wanted to marry him but she didn't want to do it in secret. She wanted all of Arkadia to witness the union between the two feuding families, the wounds of war healed with a single celebration. She wanted everyone to know that she chose him and that he chose her. She wasn't expecting an impromptu proposal and marriage.

"Tonight," he confirmed, nodding slowly. "I knew it wouldn't be easy to convince you and I know how much this marriage would mean to Arkadia but we don't really have time for a long engagement and a big wedding."

"I understand that," she replied, her eyes still on his. "But us eloping doesn't stop Azgeda from harming our friends and family."

"It will if we can convince The Commander of the Coalition to name Arkadia the 13th clan.," he replied, making her freeze.

She'd never considered such a proposal and up until now, it'd never been possible. Ever since their ancestors came down, grounder clans have been trying to get rid of them. Most of the clans even started calling the Arkadians Skaikru, as their ancestors had descended from space right into Trikru territory. However, after cementing an alliance with Trikru and appealing to The Commander, Arkadia was allowed to trade and was given their own land cut from Azgeda and Trikru holdings. It was land that had been hard to farm and mountainous but the Arkadian's used this to their advantage. Up until now, it'd never really been possible for Arkadia to officially join the coalition. In fact, the only reason conclaves came to Arkadia were to settle disputes between clans as neutral ground.

"Clarke?" Bellamy whispered, trying to gain her attention. "Clarke? Did you hear me?"

"It's possible," she reasoned, her mind racing with the possibilities. "The Commander likes our people and sees the necessity of vital trades between the clans and Arkadia. He also pays for the privilege of Arkadian goods; we could convince Lexa to speak on our behalf to the Commander."

"How would we convince her?" Bellamy asked, watching Clarke curiously, a smile forming on his lips.

"She's a close friend," Clarke explained, grinning up at him. "She's always been a friend and I think she could be persuaded to convince her father to support our marriage."

"They will want something in exchange," Bellamy responded, placing both of his hands on her hips. Clarke couldn't stop herself from wincing, a little tender from Roan's grasp earlier that night. Bellamy noticed immediately, moving his hands away cautiously.

"It's nothing," Clarke nodded, taking his hand. "But I think the Commander could be persuaded if we offered Polis exclusive trading rights on certain goods from Arkadia."

"What goods?" Bellamy asked, his eyes narrowed. She knew that he had guessed her answer before she'd even had time to respond. "We can't allow grounders access to guns, Clarke."

"Not all grounders," she confirmed, looking up at him defiantly. "We can offer the Commander a trade. He sanctions our marriage and Arkadia becoming the 13th clan and we arm the Commander's personal guard with handguns. Nothing advanced but enough of an offering to persuade him to agree."

"It won't be enough," Bellamy warned, squeezing her hand in his. "We'll need to offer him the guns and the trade deal and even then, we might not be able to convince him. Azgeda is the largest clan in the coalition and they have always been at odds with Trikru. I don't think the Commander is going to want to alienate or offend Queen Nia on our behalf; it would be unwise considering Azgeda's alliance with Lake People."

"We have to try," Clarke replied, staring up at him with disbelief. "We won't know until we try."

"But it's better to negotiate from a position of strength," Bellamy retorted, his jaw set. "We can't just bring this to the Commander out of the blue and neither can Lexa; he'll never risk it."

"Bellamy," Clarke sighed, placing both her palms on his cheeks. "Please, you don't have to trust Nia, The Commander, or Lexa…" She then stood on her tip-toes, kissing his lips gently, lingering for a moment before grinning up at him. "You just need to trust me."

Bellamy stared down at her a moment, contemplating her words before nodding, a grin spreading over his lips. "Lexa can be out witness then," Bellamy conceded, watching her closely. Clarke understood what this meant for him; it wasn't easy for Bellamy to give control over to other people and to trust Clarke with something this big meant more to her than she could really express. She could see it in him with every passing moment, the change that brought out the best he could be. It was endearing and Clarke immediately wrapped her arms around his shoulders again, lacing her fingers behind his neck.

They held one another for a moment longer before Bellamy pulled away, reaching his hand in his pocket for his handheld. It was glowing blue and Bellamy immediately pushed the button, Raven's voice whispering through the screen.

"Bellamy," she said, obviously trying to stay quiet. "Finn's almost in position. Is it done?"

Clarke looked up at him with curiosity before grinning. "Raven?" she questioned, quirking her eyebrow with amusement.

"I have Murphy waiting on standby with Raven," Bellamy whispered, a smirk on his face. "Finn's distracting the patrol so we need to move now." He pressed the button on his handheld now, whispering back before threading his fingers with Clarke's. "We're going to speak with Lexa. Meet us at the embassy."

"Will do," Raven replied before Bellamy shoved the handheld back in his pocket. He looked back at Clarke now, nodding enthusiastically.

"C'mon," he urged, motioning back up the street the way he came. "We'll cut behind the embassy and enter through the back."

"I'll contact Lexa," Clarke nodded, pulling out her own handheld. "I hope she's not still with the Azgeda delegation."

"They've been offered residence at my home," Bellamy nodded, urging her to keep up as she typed out a quick message. "Lexa elected to stay in her usual quarters at the embassy barracks."

"Then we need to find her and convince her to witness the wedding," Clarke nodded, putting the handheld in her pocket as she tried to keep stride with Bellamy. They clung to the shadows, moving hand-in-hand up the alley toward Bellamy's house. They had skirted the main drag and had kept hidden past his family's large garden walls and across the avenue. As they walked up the smaller alley between halls and stables, Clarke squeezed his hand, feeling nervous for the first time. She wasn't entirely sure she could convince Lexa to help them but her faith in her friend was all she had. Clarke only hoped that Lexa could see the peaceful path that she and Bellamy were trying to achieve for everyone.

As they turned a corner, Clarke could see the embassy towering above them. It was the tallest building in Arkadia, comprised of the old Ark from space and a newer, steel enforced tower. The grand ballroom was on the ground level but the entire embassy towered above them eight stories. Bellamy pulled her close as they approached the back gate, someone standing just on the other side waiting.

"About time," Murphy smirked, swinging the gate open. "Finn and Raven distracted the guard so be quick."

"Go get them and find a priest, we'll do this in the little chapel, next to the southern gate," Bellamy nodded, pulling Clarke closer. Clarke only smiled up at Jon before he nodded, disappearing down the alley they'd just come up.

"What if she doesn't agree?" Clarke asked, looking up at him as he shut the gate behind them.

"We'll have witnesses either way," Bellamy nodded, a grin on his face. "I planned on marrying you no matter what Lexa says. Come on."

He urged her down the small stone path that lead behind the embassy, the second floor accessible from the outside by a winding staircase. Clarke knew it was mainly for the embassy guard, for easy evacuation should a threat arise. The normal guard that was posted at the entrance wasn't there and Bellamy urged Clarke to go first up the stairs, both climbing higher as it spiraled around to the mechanized door. It was sealed and Bellamy quickly pulled out his handheld, pressing it to the scanner before a soft ding signaled their admittance.

The corridor was dimly lit and quiet, Bellamy instinctively pulling Clarke closer as he examined the hall. There were no guards and it seemed to be mostly abandoned, Clarke urging Bellamy forward. She'd never been to this part of the embassy and was curious to see more. Bellamy lead her down the corridor, past several doors before stopping in front of one at the end of the hall. Clarke pulled her handheld out now, standing before the large door anxiously. She hadn't checked to see if Lexa had responded but her handheld was blank, no new messages or alerts on the screen. Clarke took a deep breath now, looking up at Bellamy with a soft smile. His confident nod was all the courage she needed that moment as she extended her fist and knocked politely on the door.

There was silence for a few moments before shuffling and soft footfalls could be heard on the other side of the door. Clarke glanced up at Bellamy and couldn't help but smirk back at him as they both listened for Lexa. It was only a few moments later that the handle to the door jiggled and Clarke stepped sideways, making sure Lexa saw her first. The older girl looked a little tired, rubbing her eye before taking in Clarke's appearance. She'd almost jumped when she spotted Bellamy close behind, her eyes narrowing on them both.

"What are you two doing here?" she asked, a little confused. "Clarke, what's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong," Clarke urged, glancing about the corridor. "Can we come in and talk?"

"Something is wrong," Lexa noted, moving from the doorway to allow them entrance. "Why are you two here this late?" She shut the door behind them now, locking it before rounding on them. "Do you have any idea what this would look like to the Azgeda delegation, should you be caught out after curfew?"

"We're aware," Clarke replied, raising her hands in defense. "Please, can you just hear me out?"

"I'm not going to like this," she groaned, moving to sit at the chair behind the simple desk, her long dark tunic and pants rustling as she moved. "What is it?"

"We need your help," Clarke replied, moving to stand in front of her. She knew Lexa was confused, her eyes darting between them before considering Clarke again.

"With?"

"We want out of these Asgeda alliances," Clarke urged, glancing up at Bellamy. "We didn't willingly agree and we've decided that we want to be together."

"Clarke," Lexa warned, her voice low and dangerous. "You realize what that means for the coalition and Arkadia, right?"

"Please, hear her out," Bellamy urged, making both women look up at him.

Lexa considered Bellamy now, her eyes roaming over him before looking back at Clarke, offering her a seat in one of the other chairs. Clarke enthusiastically took it, locking eyes with Lexa before continuing, her shoulders squared and her mouth pressed into a firm line. She knew this wouldn't be easy but she realized that this was the only way they would get out of this alliance without spilling blood.

"We want to marry and stop Azgeda before an engagement can be formally announced," Clarke urged, never looking from Lexa as she relaxed behind the desk. "We want you to convince your father to back the marriage and in exchange, we can work out a new trade agreement that would not only benefit the coalition but Polis as well. We will offer up handguns for each member of the commander's guard and exclusive rights to Arkadian armed forces, should he ever need them against any enemy."

Again, Lexa was silent, pondering Clarke's offer with a straight face and a tight lip. She didn't speak for a moment, watching the two of them curiously before letting out a long sigh. Clarke wasn't sure what she'd say and her stomach turned in anticipation. Lexa bit her lip now, looking at the window for a moment before meeting Clarke's eye.

"You're asking for a lot," Lexa admitted, her voice full of warning. "Understand, this is in no way a personal dispute. For my part, I could care less who marries who, so long as my friend is happy. However, my father will not feel the same way and would urge me to consider every option. Therefore, I must ask you, are you sure you're ready to commit your military support to The Commander?"

"If it allows us to be together," Bellamy assured, glancing down at Clarke.

"I do not believe you fully grasp what it means to pledge Arkadian firepower to the commander's cause," Lexa reasoned, her eyes narrowed on them both. "You realize that Azgeda and the Lake People will be honor-bound to attack, right? You'll start a war that I'm not entirely sure we could win."

"There are currently twelve clans in the coalition," Clarke reasoned, watching Lexa closely. "Make Arkadia the thirteenth."

"Have you gone insane?" Lexa asked, her eyes wide and her mouth almost agape. "Do you have any idea what kind of problems that would cause? Delphi's territory is already being threatened by Azgeda and the Lake People and they're our only allies in the west. Even the Plains Riders are demanding greater independence!"

"Exactly the reason you need to accept us into the coalition," Clarke urged, glancing up at Bellamy for support. She admittedly didn't know as much about the other clans as Bellamy did.

"The coalition's biggest threat is Azgeda and their allies," Bellamy urged, moving from his spot behind Clarke to the other chair next to her. "Trikru, Glowing Forest, and Braodleaf are the commander's biggest allies and they all have lucrative trade deals with Arkadia. They wouldn't oppose our addition…."

"Azgeda has more influence than you realize," Lexa reasoned, watching Bellamy. "The Plains Riders have vast trade deals with Blue Cliff and Sankru as well as Delphi and Azgeda. If Queen Nia convinces the Plains Riders to ally with them, half the coalition will be opposed to my father."

"Then we isolate Azgeda and Lake People," Bellamy replied, his eyes alight with a new plan. "We make friends of the Plains Riders and turn them before Azgeda approaches them."

"This is all hypothetical," Lexa interrupted, shaking her head. "If you two marry, you would force my father to choose a side. Our closest allies would never abandon us but Flokru, Rockline, and Shadow Valley could be persuaded to either side."

"Then we offer them something they can't resist," Bellamy offered, his voice full of hesitation. Clarke could see the apprehension but he squared his shoulders, facing Lexa confidently. "We offer them access to better body armor and, in time, we introduce them to firearms."

"You'd willingly give over Arkadian secrets to join the coalition?" Lexa asked, clear disbelief written on her face. "You realize that you would no longer hold the upper hand in battle and this could result in Azgeda getting a hold of Arkadian weapons?"

"I understand," Bellamy nodded, his voice just as tight as his jaw. "But we cannot allow Azgeda unbridled access to Arkadian firearms with marriage. Queen Nia will demand we support her and her candidate for commander."

"Nia has always coveted my father's position," Lexa sighed, looking between them. "And I cannot guarantee that my father will honor any terms I set out."

"We plan to wed anyway," Clarke pointed, making Lexa look at her quizzically. "We would like for you to bear witness since you are an unbiased representative of the coalition."

"When?" Lexa asked, never taking her eyes off Clarke. "Now?"

"Yes," Clarke assured, a smile creeping onto her face. "We aren't going to let Azgeda dictate our marriage and it would mean a lot to me if you would witness the ceremony."

"That's pretty reckless," Lexa said, moving to stand now. "But, if it is what you want, I'll do it." Clarke was about to hug her when she put up her hands, stopping her there. "Don't get me wrong, I think it is a bad idea and it might backfire but anything which displeases Queen Nia, makes me extremely happy."

"That's all we need," Bellamy smirked, nodding down at Clarke. "Come, the others are waiting for us at the chapel near the south gate."

"Sounds like you're planning on running," Lexa warned, moving to strap on her boots and jacket.

"We'll marry and then move south to Jon's family estate," Clarke explained, blushing slightly. "It's not the first place our fathers would look."

"And then what?" Lexa questioned, strapping her blade to her back.

"No doubt Azgeda will retaliate," Bellamy reasoned. "Their troops aren't close by though so Roan and Roya would be forced to return home."

"And then war," Lexa whispered, opening the door to her room and motioning for them to go first.

The three of them walked silently down the corridor toward the door leading outside. When it opened before them they spotted a guard patrolling the grounds, his firearm strapped to his hip. Bellamy looked between the other two before motioning for them to follow after him. They quietly crept down the stairs, the steel creaking and moaning as they got closer to the bottom. The guard, luckily, was toward the far side of the yard, inspecting the side gate into the next residence.

As quietly as they could, the three teens bolted across the yard toward the gate Murphy had been waiting by earlier. With an eerie creek, it swung open and the three bolted, hoping the guard from the embassy hadn't heard them closing the gate behind them. They didn't stop running until they reached the main avenue, staying hidden in the shadows of the smaller alley. They stood waiting a moment, listening closely for any sign of guards or pursuers and were relieved to hear only the soft hum of the generators and street lamps.

"The chapel isn't far," Bellamy explained, looking between the two of them. "We'll have to wind through some alleyways and junctions but it shouldn't take more than ten minutes."

"Let's go then," Lexa warned. "I don't fancy getting caught out past curfew; I can only imagine what they'll think of that."

"Once we get to the chapel," Bellamy whispered, motioning for them to follow him. "Jon will escort you back. He's not a high-ranking officer but the guard won't question you if he's there."

The three of them dodged down a side alley now, sharply sloping down the hill. The embassy was disappearing over the hill as they snaked down between houses and shops, trying to stay in the shadows as they got closer to another of the main streets. It was there that Lexa spotted two guards, strolling up the main avenue with guns strapped to their hips. Bellamy wondered if they'd doubled the guard since the arrival of the Azgeda delegation. It would make sense considering everyone else blamed them for the attack on Bellamy without knowing the full truth of it all.

"We wait," Clarke whispered, watching Lexa tighten her grip around the hilt of her sword. Lexa only nodded, watching silently as the two guards strolled up the road, talking calmly. Their conversation was distant and remained so until they were far enough up the road to not notice the three teens darting across the intersection. Once they were far enough down the opposite lane, Bellamy took the lead, maneuvering through the shadows of overhanging buildings and the occasional fence. Clarke kept pace, sticking close to Lexa as they finally emerged into a tiny pavilion surrounded by a few housing complexes and shops. A squat building at the far end of the pavilion had a wooden steeple, the windows dimly lit from the inside. It was one of the oldest surviving religious buildings in Arkadia and had been standing for well over sixty years.

"Come on," Bellamy smiled, a look of excitement coming over his normally stoic features. "Raven, Finn, and Murphy are waiting for us."

Before Clarke could answer she felt a sharp pain I her neck, her hand immediately going up to find a dart. It was small, roughly hewn, and feathered but she knew what it meant. Her eyes went wide as Bellamy moved toward her, his own eyes full of shock and horror as she started to buckle. Before Bellamy could catch her from falling, a man had come from the alley they'd just emerged from, three more emerging behind him. One of the men had knocked Lexa sideways into the brick wall, causing her to collapse to the ground with a grunt. Another had snatched Clarke, throwing her limp body over his shoulder. The men were easily recognizable, wearing heavy fur and leather with facial tattoos and scarification; they were sent by Azgeda.

Bellamy had pulled his gun at that moment, hitting the man directly in front of him between the eyes. He fell to the ground now, a pool of blood forming around his head as Bellamy aimed to shoot again. It was too late to notice the man sprinting at him from another alley on his right, pummeling Bellamy to the ground. The gun went flying and Bellamy heard a sickening crunch as his whole arm felt like it was on fire. Lexa was already up again, swinging at one of the other men as the grounder who abducted Clarke sprinted back the way they came. Bellamy pushed himself up now, kicking the grounder who had tackled him in the face before regaining balance. He completely ignored the pain in his left arm, pulling his sword with his right hand. The only thing that mattered to him at that moment was getting Clarke back.

Fortunately, the gunshot had woken several residents of the area and Murphy had come sprinting out of the church, his own gun poised. He managed to shoot the man who was attacking Bellamy, dropping him before aiming his gun at the man Lexa had backed into a corner.

"There's another!" Bellamy yelled, turning from them and stooping down to scoop up his fallen gun. He then turned again, sprinting back up the alley they'd come from. "He has Clarke!"

Bellamy didn't have time to think, didn't have time to consider a strategy; his only thought was finding out where Clarke had been taken. Thankfully, the alley was long and uphill, the outline of the grounder who'd fled emerging from the shadows long enough for Bellamy to spot that familiar set of golden curls. He sprinted up the alley now, hearing another set of footsteps following after him. He didn't dare stop, the fear of an Azgeda blade running him through before he could save Clarke making his insides burn. It was only when he heard Jon calling after him that the turning feeling in his stomach left. He had to catch up with Clarke before the main road. If not, he could lose the direction they'd went entirely.

Bellamy's arm was burning but so were his legs as he raced frantically up the alley, watching the outline of the grounder disappear over the crest of the hill onto the main road. He had almost caught up, close enough to get a good look at the man's face. It was Clarke's face that caught his eye; she was completely unconscious. Bellamy almost fell now, tripping over his own feet as he stumbled toward the summit of the alley. He turned around frantically, trying to spot which way the man went when he saw it. There wasn't just one man running down the main road toward the marketplace but several. Almost a dozen, all clad in fur and leather, sprinting toward what Bellamy only assumed was the north gate. If they made it north, Bellamy knew he'd have almost no chance of getting Clarke back.

"Bellamy," Murphy called, finally catching up with him. "Which-?" Jon was cut short, his eyes wide as he watched almost a dozen Azgeda warriors running toward the market.

"Get on the radio, tell them to lock down the north gate and do it quickly!" Bellamy said, taking another deep breath before sprinting after them.

Murphy called after him but he ignored it, waving at the two patrol guards who'd emerged from the alley on the left. It wasn't long before Bellamy could hear more footsteps behind him, never losing sight of the warriors who'd crossed the market and onto the main road north. He couldn't make out Clarke in all of it, her blonde hair almost disappearing as the group started to split up. Bellamy's stomach dropped, his lungs burning along with his arms as three separate groups began to form.

"No!" Bellamy almost screamed, frantic to spot Clarke's blonde curls as the warriors started disappearing into side-streets. A main group still stayed on their course, sprinting up the main alley. He was searching desperately for Clarke when he spotted a blonde set of hair, his legs almost acting on their own as he sped up, vaulting the low stone wall that had surrounded the market square.

He kept running, not stopping until he rounded the corner at the main market, pointing his gun at one of the Azgeda men who hadn't quite turned the corner. Bellamy jumped over his body as he fell to the ground, blood pouring from his chest as Bellamy continued sprinting, the gunshot ringing in his ears. He could spot the blonde head of hair, the guards from the north gate running toward the Azgeda infiltrators. Bellamy stopped now, the four remaining warriors trapped between Bellamy and the gate guards.

"Don't shoot!" Bellamy yelled, catching the guard's attention as Murphy and the patrol finally caught up with Bellamy. "They have a hostage!"

Before Bellamy could act, one of the grounders pulled his sword, swinging at the closest guard. This set off a round of gunshots, Bellamy losing his voice as he cried out for them to stop. It was all in vain, all four grounders dropping to the ground in heaps of blood. Bellamy sprinted toward them, praying that none of the bullets had hit Clarke. It was only when he'd turned over all the bodies, and didn't spot a set of golden curls, that he knew. It hadn't been Clarke he spotted among them at all; just a golden set of furs strapped to one of the warrior's backs. He'd been misled and had lost Clarke entirely.

"Scrambled the guard!" Bellamy ordered, turning to Murphy. "Scramble the guard, lock down every gate, and sweep every street! She's still inside the city."

"Bellamy!" Murphy called, reaching his friend and placing a hand on his shoulder. Bellamy rounded on him, his eyes crazed as if he'd gone insane. "Your arm! It looks like it's dislocated- "

"I don't care," Bellamy spat, turning around. "Where did the other two groups go? Come on, follow me!"

"Finn took off after them," Murphy explained, trying to keep up with Bellamy again as he pushed through some other guards back down the street they'd just come up. "He took a few guards, he can't be far."

"If they get out of the city with her- "

"I know!" Murphy begged, stopping Bellamy in his tracks as he jumped in front of him. "I know but you have to slow down. You must think before you make a move. Shooting back there was dangerous! If Clarke would have been with those men, she could have gotten shot."

"But she's not with them," Bellamy growled, pushing past Murphy down the main road. There were a few guards jogging down the lane toward them, turning down a side-alley and catching Bellamy's attention. He dismissed Murphy again, shaking his head before following the guards. Bellamy was stopped in his tracks when a few of the guard were spotted standing around something in the middle of the alley. Bellamy pushed through them and looked down to see a medic frantically trying to mend a knife wound. Bellamy had almost let himself get carried away, not realizing the man on the ground was Finn.

"We have to get him to the hospital," Murphy chimed in, stepping around the guards. "Has anyone radioed for a rover?"

"They are on the way," the medic said, pressing some linen to the wound on Finn's chest. "He's losing a lot of blood."

"Where did the grounders go?" Bellamy asked, dismissing the problem altogether. His top priority was Clarke and he feared the worse.

"Up that a-alleyway," Finn groaned, looking up at Bellamy. "They were h-headed toward the hospital."

"Don't try to talk," Murphy said, glancing up at Bellamy. "They are trapped, there isn't any way to get to a gate before they are sealed. We'll find her- "

Murphy's voice cut off, his eyes going wide as something struck him. He almost bolted up, his face pale as if he'd seen a ghost. "No," he breathed, looking up the alleyway Finn had mentioned. "How could they know?"

Bellamy almost fell over as Murphy pushed past him, the rover from the hospital arriving as they disappeared into the alleyway. Bellamy didn't understand what Murphy was so worried about but when he'd come to a full stop, the large iron and wood wall towering over them, Bellamy understood. There were two dead guards at the end of the alley, which had opened into a pavilion. Murphy immediately skirted the bodies, moving toward a narrow and steeply sloping path against the large city wall.

"What is this?" Bellamy asked, the pain in his arm and shoulder hitting him all at once as the adrenaline started to wear off. "Where did they go?"

"I don't understand how they knew," Murphy mumbled, his eyes darting from the path to Bellamy. "It's impossible! They had to of had help…"

"Who? What is it?"

"It's a secret passage," Murphy replied, his eyes reflecting the dread that had fully taken over Bellamy now. "They knew about it somehow and now they're gone."

"We have to follow it," Bellamy urged, moving to pass Murphy and walk down the small roughly etched slope.

Murphy stopped him now, placing both hands on his shoulders. Bellamy winced at the sudden pain in his left arm and glared at Murphy, annoyed that his friend was stopping him now.

"No," Murphy urged, shaking his head. "If they knew about the passage than there must be others waiting for them on the outside. It is too dangerous to go alone and your injured. We have to gather reinforcements and- "

"Reset my arm," Bellamy ordered, turning so Murphy could grab his left arm. Murphy only looked at him bewildered, hesitating to grab his arm. "Do it!" Bellamy ordered, his eyes dangerously narrowed. Murphy just nodded now, grasping Bellamy's arm just below his shoulder and tugging. There was a loud popping sound and Bellamy's knees almost buckled as the arm was reset. The sharp pain and dull ache that followed only fueling him further.

"Radio the guard, let them know where we've gone," Bellamy ordered, grasping his gun in his right hand. "We can't stop following them. We have to get Clarke back."

"We need to stop, regroup, and think," Murphy pleaded, watching Bellamy incredulously. "You've lost your damn mind if you think just the two of us can get her back now."

"I have to try!" Bellamy growled, irritation taking over as he rounded on Murphy. "I won't sit here and do nothing while she's in danger!"

"But we should have a plan," Murphy pleaded. "If we just plow along without thinking, without planning, we'll wind up dead."

"So, what? We-we give up? We let them kill her?"

"Bellamy, I want to find her too," Murphy replied, his shoulders squared. "But look at your arm. We could die if we go out there and we have no idea which way they could have gone."

"I can't lose Clarke!" he yelled, the desperation and helplessness overtaking his voice. He sounded like a wounded animal, the frustration shaking him as the pain in his left arm took over. "I can't lose her," he whispered, his eyes meeting Murphy's.

"We'll find her, okay? We'll figure something out, I promise," Murphy nodded, reaching out to help Bellamy as he swayed where he stood. He was looking pale now, the pain and stress from his shoulder finally weakening him. "But this isn't the way," Murphy whispered, motioning toward the hospital.

* * *

Clarke woke with a searing pain in her leg, the world spinning about her as she tried to regain herself. She couldn't see anything, moving to raise her hands to her eyes only to find that she was bound. The coarse rope was tied tightly around her wrists in front of her and she struggled to reach the blindfold that was obscuring her vision. She knew her legs were bound together as well, unable to move them apart as she adjusted herself. She wasn't sitting comfortably, inching slowly until she felt a solid surface behind her. She wiggled and jerked, trying to sit upright but when she did, she felt a tug on her wrist.

"Listen here, princess," came an unfamiliar voice, the accent thick. "Don't try anything funny; they said nothing about delivering you unharmed."

"Where am I?" Clarke asked, fully adjusting herself so she was sitting upright, her leg burning with pain.

"You're a prisoner," the man replied, letting go of her restraints. "If you cooperate, you'll be safe."

"I don't understand," Clarke reasoned, trying to remain calm. "I don't know what I did- "

"You'll understand soon," he countered, his voice a little more impatient than it had initially been.

Clarke thought it a good time to be quiet and tried desperately to listen to anything that might give her a clue. She was inside some sort of transport but it wasn't Arkadian; there was no engine hum. She couldn't hear much over the rattle of chains, creaking of wood, and the wind that howled and bit at her where she was bound. She couldn't hear any other people and only the faint clacking of what could only be hooves.

"My leg," Clarke said, turning her head to look in the direction of the man's voice. "My leg is injured, please. Let me look at it."

There was silence again, nothing but creaking and gusting before the man growled, shifting his weight toward her. Clarke could tell that the space was relatively small and that it could only be some sort of wagon or carriage. She could smell the man as he got closer, the scent of earth, bile, and sour breath overtaking the rest of her senses. Clarke almost jumped when she felt the blindfold being tugged at, the man pulling it off with an unamused grunt.

"Any funny business and I won't be so nice," he replied, glaring down at her. He was a tall, burly man with large muscles and rough hands. He pulled her so she was sitting completely upright, pulling back a flap over what looked to be a small window. Clarke could see much better and realized that she was in a roughly cobbled wooden box, moving slowly through what she could only see as a white landscape. She was being transported somewhere in this cart, completely locked in with a man who she didn't recognize and didn't trust. What was worse was that the searing pain in her leg hadn't gone away.

Clarke gazed down at it now, unable to move the leg without pain. She leaned forward as best she could and tried pulling the pantleg up over her calf. It burned unbelievably hot and Clarke almost cried out when she finally saw what was wrong. Her calf was covered in blood and there was a bullet wound freshly tended. An herb and sap poultice had been smeared on it but the redness hadn't gone down. Clarke was furious now, her leg clearly infected from the wound. She groaned now, looking at the man across from her lividly.

"You shot me?" she snapped, pointing down at her leg. "Why would you shoot me?"

"It wasn't us," the man growled, glaring down at her. "It was your own people who shot at us. Our healer was killed in the process so we did what we could," the man snapped, his voice low and harsh. "We're almost there anyway so shut your mouth."

Clarke glared at him indignantly before turning back to her leg. It was swollen and hot and she couldn't help but feel pissed about the entire situation. She didn't know where she was, how she got there, or who would want to kidnap her in the first place. She'd have sworn it was all a bad joke if it weren't for the clear pain radiating from her calf. She was still bound at the hands but she worked quickly, tearing the leg of her pants off and wrapping the linen around her leg just below her knee. It stung, ached, and shot pain up her hip to her spine but she had to ignore it, biting down on a wad of her shirt as she made the final adjustment.

"There," she breathed, relief washing over her as she wiped away some sweat that had formed on her brow. It would have to do, with nothing to splint it with she knew she had to be careful. She couldn't stand on it and it didn't help that her legs were bound together at the knees. It was a real workout to put the wrap on it and she was proud of her handiwork in such a circumstance but glared at the man sitting across from her angrily. "I cannot walk on it; do you hear me? Can you carry me when we get to where we're going? If I try to stand on it, it will cause irreparable damage."

"If you shut up the rest of the way," he grunted, glancing over at her from the window.

Clarke didn't need to be told twice, looking out the window as well. She couldn't see anyone else, only the distant tree line and a snow-covered ground. She knew they weren't in Arkadia anymore and that made her freeze. She should have guessed that they were heading north, to Azgeda but she never thought Queen Nia would be so bold. Clarke berated herself for not expecting this, immediately thinking of the danger Bellamy could be in. The thought of Bellamy made the whole situation hit her all at once; she was a prisoner.

She almost cried, looking away from the window now, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. She quickly pushed them away and started to consider what could be done. Giving up wasn't an option and the thought of being a prisoner and bride in Azgeda made her stomach turn uncomfortably. It shot pains through her body, making her almost gag in response. She felt them coming again, in waves as she held her mouth, trying to calm herself with deep breaths through her nose. It was in vain, her stomach grinding again. This time, she almost threw up, gagging a couple of times before taking a deep breath to calm herself.

"Here," the man said, noticing her discomfort. He handed her a skin and she didn't even care what was in it. She took a large drink, the harsh mead hitting her tongue like liquid grime. It tasted awful, almost spoiled, but she drank anyway. It slithered down her throat and pooled in her belly, making it surprisingly settled. After she'd drank three big gulps, she handed it back, feeling slightly disoriented.

"Don't worry," the man replied, noticing her look of panic. "It isn't poison; it's alcohol. It'll fill you up when you haven't eaten in a couple days."

"A couple days?" Clarke breathed, looking over at him. He only nodded and she sat back upright against the wall of the wagon, taking a deep breath to steady herself. She was trying to remember what had happened, trying to remember how she had got there. The only thing she remembered was speaking to Bellamy, the thought of never seeing him again sending a chill up her spine. She couldn't imagine what was going through his head right now and only hoped that her worse fears hadn't come true.

She remembered speaking to Lexa and convincing her to come with them but everything after that was blurry, almost incoherent. Flashes of memories were all over the place, all of them coming back to Bellamy and no matter how hard she concentrated, she couldn't remember the events leading up to all of this. That didn't matter at that point because the wagon had come to a stop, the man sitting inside with her moving to crouch in the small, closed-off wooden box. He moved to stand, pushing the lid above them open and looking about. Clarke felt a cool rush of wind and shivered, noticing there were three other men looking over the edge of the box at her. They spoke gruffly to one another, the language foreign to Clarke.

Then, the man that was in the wagon with her stooped down, stretching out his arms. "Don't resist," he commented, looking at her with a warning. He then scooped her up effortlessly, her legs hanging over his arm as he moved to get out of the wagon. The back wall came down creating a ramp for him to just walk on, Clarke's eyes immediately going to the view around them. She'd never seen Azgeda before and was in awe. They were on the banks of a river, stretching hundreds of yards across, the green waters covered with random blocks and islands of ice. Just up the river, only a hundred yards or so, was a wide ovular shaped waterfall, parts of it flowing thunderously down into the frozen water. Other parts were frozen as large sheets of ice that clung to the falls. The green water rushed behind it and Clarke couldn't help but stare in wonderment. There was a large wooden bridge spanning over the top of the falls as well, stretching from one bank to the other and on the other side stood a massive stone wall.

Clarke couldn't' see how far up river it stretched but the edge she could see lined the cliff, watching over the icy valley below where huts, log cabins, and a massive trade hub all stood humming with life. The man that was holding her followed another man, dressed in thick furs and dark leather, up the river to the stairs that lead to the top of the falls. There must have been fifty stairs but he didn't complain once, hoisting her closer to his body as he climbed.

She knew that there was no escaping now, no matter what she did. She was in the Azgeda capitol, surrounded by soldiers and guards almost two hundred miles from her home. If there was anything that could be done, it wasn't here and now. Clarke considered this somberly before deciding to be compliant, giving her captors no reason to harm her. After all, Queen Nia wanted her for her son, and the access to Arkadian weaponry.

When they'd crested the top of the staircase, Clarke stared in awe at the sight before her. Across the bridge was a large stone wall, lining the bank of the river. Behind that wall stood a massive hall, the wooden beams taller than any Clarke had seen before. The roof was lined with thin wooden and metal tiles and the Azgeda insignia was ornately carved over the entryway. Clarke didn't have time to take in the entire sight because the group had started crossing the wooden bridge, the light mist from the falls surrounding them as they approached.

Clarke couldn't hear anything but the thundering water and wind as they approached the thick wooden gate of the Azgeda fort. Once they were close enough, the doors swung open slightly, allowing enough space for them to slip through before shutting it. Clarke looked about frantically, trying to memorize how the door mechanism worked but was quickly carried into one of the small wooden buildings adjacent to the stone wall. Clarke immediately appreciated the warmth of the small hut but what amazed to find that the hut was no more than the top of a staircase that lead underground.

She immediately started to panic now, looking from the man who was holding her to the other warrior who was leading them underground. It was an ominous feeling, looking down the stairs at the bottom where it opened into an unknown underground passage. She squirmed uncomfortably in the man's arms but that only made him tighten his grip, the light from the fire above becoming dimmer as the descended. Before too long they were in a dimly lit corridor, the ceiling low as they walked uphill toward a large metal door. Clarke felt her heart sink; she was going to be caged, underground, with no hope of rescue. She almost cried out when the door swung shut behind them. To Clarke's horror, the passage that they had took ended in an elegant wooden staircase, the rafters above carved with details that matched the great hall from earlier. She was being confined in the most secure place Azgeda possessed; their own palace.

Before Clarke could protest, she heard a familiar voice coming from above her, instantly freezing. It was Roan, the discussion becoming more vivid as the rest of them neared the top of the stairs.

"So, you kidnap her?" Roan asked, his voice full of disbelief. "That will start a war."

"Not necessarily," came an unfamiliar woman's voice, the tone dark and smooth. "The commander knows he doesn't have the forces or the incentive to protect Delphi and he won't risk turning the Plains Riders against him. He'll buckle and offer what little support he can to Skaikru."

"Arkadia," Roan corrected, his voice stern. "If one of their own is going to be my queen, I'll honor her heritage."

"Noble," the woman replied. "A bit too sentimental but if you insist. She's your prisoner, after all."

"She's not a prisoner!" he retorted, stopping all together when the two guards and Clarke reached the top of the stairs. Clarke was astounded by the interior of the great hall. They were obviously in the main hall, a tall wooden chair decorated and carved with animal bones and antlers overlooking the long fire-pit and tables below. Clarke glared at the woman sitting in the chair, a bone crown sitting atop her head. The man who was carrying Clarke, and the man he'd followed, both bowed to their queen, setting Clarke down gingerly afterward.

Clarke immediately locked eyes with Roan, wanting him to know how disgusted and angry she was. It may not have done her much good but she knew, somewhere deep down, he was an honorable man. He may have been completely daft when it came to women but he was an honorable warrior. Clarke didn't miss the warning look he shot her before looking back at his mother, an eyebrow raised.

"I see my bride has been injured," Roan commented, glancing at the man who'd carried her. "What happened?"

"They opened fire on us as we were escaping," the man explained. "Everything went exactly as you said it would, my prince. However, we did not plan on them firing at us with such a valuable hostage."

"I thought I'd heard gunfire as I fled the city," Roan commented, locking eyes with Clarke. "Make sure she has a comfortable bed, a warm bath, and have our healers look at that bullet wound. I'll speak with her afterward."

"I'm not some prized pet or toy you can just lock up and take care of," Clarke growled, gaining both Nia and Roan's attention. "I refuse to resign myself to this fate. I won't marry you, no matter what you do to me."

"She's a feisty one," Queen Nia commented, standing from her throne, her tall white hair balanced elegantly around her crown. "And what makes you think we need a marriage? Do you think I want some Skaikru child as the next queen of Azgeda?! We don't need a marriage, just children to inherit the Griffin name."

The color drained from her face now, her head feeling light as she looked between Roan and his mother. Before she knew what was happening, she felt limp, her knees buckling below her with a shaky wobble. It was Roan who'd caught her, his eyes wide as he looked over her sickly condition.

"She's no good to us dead," Roan commented, glaring at the guard who'd carried her. The guard took that as his que to leave, turning immediately from him with a bow and disappearing toward the staircase. Clarke could barely make out the faces around her as more people appeared to help her. She only remembers Roan directing them to tend to her before everything went black, a swirling sense of dread and hopelessness filling her.

* * *

 **There you go folks! The end of book 1. Book two will be update shortly. :) Hope you enjoyed it. Please please please review!**

 **Thanks again!**


	21. Chapter 21: Epilogue Beta

**I do hope you enjoyed it and wanted to remind my readers of the weekly release of book 2. Check it out on my page. Arkadia: The White Crown. A fun and challenging sequel.**

 **I wanted to let you know that I will be replacing this chapter's contents in the future with an actual epilogue. For those of you who haven't read book 2, that's okay. This will actually be an epilogue that looks into the past from an unlikely character's POV. So, keep an eye out for that!**

 **I do hope you all have enjoyed the story and I appreciate every bit of support.**

 **Again, go check out Arkadia: The White Crown, the second book in the series!**

 **Thanks again!**

 _ **~ Kat ~**_


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